#willing to do anything for their children

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 2

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel’s shadows liked to spoil his mate rotten.

Not that Azriel could find anything wrong with that.

She deserved more for putting up with him. 

More than new tea from the Dawn Court and her favourite chocolate covered, wafer thin cookies from a small bakery near the Sidra…more than the occasional embroidery thread they snuck her…More than whatever animal he went to go hunt, to cover his bed in even more furs just for her. 

He nearly had enough Sable furs to have a blanket made for her for Winter Solstice…

Azriel also had half a mind to go sneak in her office later that day. 

Just as a treat for not killing either of his brothers. For being civil. 

Rhys had come over for sparring, unnannounced. 

Azriel had hoped to have some peace and quiet today, but it seemed like Rhys had other plans. 

Currently Cassian and Rhys were wrestling with less sense than they had had when they were just kids, and Azriel was cleaning his weapons, watching from the sidelines.

Azriel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of his brothers roughhousing. It was typical of them to turn a simple sparring session into some kind of ridiculous competition. He focused on sharpening his knives, trying to ignore their antics.

"You know, we could also actually train properly," he called out, his tone dry. "Instead of wrestling like a bunch of children."

Cassian looked up from his grappling with Rhys, grinning. "Oh, come on Az. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Loosen up, have a little fun for once."

Azriel's expression remained impassive. "I'm perfectly capable of having fun, Cassian. But I prefer to do so without rolling around in the dirt like a wild animal."

Rhysand chuckled, standing up and clapping Cassian on the back. "It's good to let loose every now and then, Az. You should try it sometime. It might make your brooding sessions a little less depressing."

Azriel just grunted in response, not willing to engage in a verbal sparring match with Rhys. He continued to clean his weapons, hoping that the training session would end soon so he could escape his brothers' teasing.

“When did you even come home yesterday?” Cassian asked him.

Azriel looked up from his work, his expression neutral. "Around 11," he said simply.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Rhys pointed out. “You were missed.”

He highly doubted that.

And maybe he had made that mission in Dawn just a little while longer, so that he knew that dinner would be over and when he came home, he wouldn’t need to be alone.

Azriel just shrugged. "I was busy," he said, offering no further explanation. He knew his brothers were just trying to rile him up, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

*Are you still pissed of at me?* Rhys asked him mentally with a sigh. *I get it. But you don’t need to avoid everybody else, just because…*

*I’m not avoiding anyone,* Azriel replied, his mental voice tight. *I’m simply choosing to spend my time how I see fit.*

“I was busy,” he repeated aloud.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You're always busy, Az. You know, there's such thing as taking a break once in a while. Spending time with your family."

Or he could spent time with his mate. He could spent time with his mate, who let him brush her hair and even braid it …who pressed kisses to his horrible scarred hands and smiled at him. 

If it was a choice between Irena or a family dinner where he didn’t want to stay longer than an hour or two, because he was still too fucking pissed off at Rhys…the choice was easy. 

“Or is there a special somebody?” Cassian teased him.

Azriel glowered at him. "It’s none of your business." He went back to working on his weapons, his expression tense.

*You can’t keep panting after Elain for the rest of your life,* Rhys said mentally. *Look, I know I didn’t…I am sorry. But she’s happy with Lucien and…*

*Don’t worry, I’ll go to a pleasure hall and pay for it if I want to fuck somebody,* Azriel shot back viciously.

Or his own hand would suffice. More than suffice, especially if…especially if Irena had let him kiss her the evening before…sometimes he waited until she disappeared into her room, and he buried his face in the pillows that smelled like her, fisted his cock and rutted like an untried boy for seconds before he came all over himself. 

It was still better than any other sex he ever had had before.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. "It sounds like you need to get laid," he said, chuckling. "Maybe that'll help with your bad mood."

Azriel shot him a glare. "Mind your own business, Cassian. My love life is none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a sympathetic look. *We just want you to be happy, Az. You deserve happiness.*

“Ohhh, touchy,” Cassian said with a snort.

Azriel just gritted his teeth, his temper rising. "Cassian, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I swear to the Mother, I’ll shut it for you."

Cassian just grinned at him. "Come on, Az. I’m just teasing you. Lighten up."

Azriel's grip on his weapons tightened. "I don't like your teasing, Cassian. And I certainly don't appreciate you making assumptions about my personal life.”

Mostly he just wanted his brothers to leave him the hell alone.

And then...then before he could say another thing...he felt the shaking.

And then the sound came. An eardrum shattering explosion, the very foundation of the House of Wind shaking. It was terrifying him.

Irena was down there in her office. Nesta was in there. 

He was moving before he was even thinking. 

*Merrill's office, Master!* the shadows screeched.

Azriel was already running.

Cassian hot on his heels, so was Rhys.

Azriel was faster, heaving shadows around his limbs as he rocketed down the spiral stairs of the House of Wind.

Level Two, Straight to the right. Clearly...Clearly the epicenter of the blast. Of the explosion…of whatever had happened.

He pushed as hard as he could, legs burning as he hurtled down the hallway to Merrill's office.

He wasn't the only one. "Merrill!" He could hear Gwyn's shrill voice screaming, coming to a stop in a hallway of what had once been Merrill's office but now was just...

It was a mass of wood and rubble.

He barely slowed down, scrambling into action. Gwyn was already digging through it, so where Nesta and Emerie. Cassian landed behind him, immediately moving some of the debris.

His shadows swarmed as he and the others quickly dug at the rubble. Looking, desperately looking.

He moved another piece of rubble out of the way...a piece of blue cloths. The same blue cloth that he knew covered Irena's body, the scent of poppies clinging to her...Without a thought, he grasped and then dragged, a hoarse shout that was her, that was her...

He felt as if he were choking, as if he were drowning as he dragged out her body. Bloody, bruised, broken but still...still there was a faint flicker, a faint, thready heartbeat.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he tried to pick up on her heart. There was barely a flicker. Too fast, too faint, she was barely holding on. Barely hanging by a thread.

There was blood pooling on her abdomen, dying the blue dress she wore bright scarlet red, He put pressure on that wound immediately, leaning on her with nearly all his weight, his fingers slick with blood. "Damn it, stay with me, love," he demanded sharply.

Azriel felt like he could barely breath. Like he was falling, tumbling down as he tried to will her to stay with him. Stay. Stay. Stay. Please stay. Stay...

Rhys was there suddenly, checking her pulse. "Breathing is erratic. She's in shock," he told Azriel with a grimace. "Mor is getting Madja..."

"Az..." her voice was so weak, but he turned to see dark brown eyes watching him, brows furrowing.

"Just keep breathing, Love," he told her, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

He could barely hear what was going on around him. It was as if he were in a bubble, a world of just himself and her and the desperate beat of her heart under his fingers.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"There is nothing you need to apologise for her, Irena," he promised her sharply. "Absolutely nothing."

Irena's eyes drifted shut. Azriel felt like something was dying inside him as her heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His world was collapsing, shattering into pieces as her breath stuttered.

"Stay. Just stay..." he was barely aware of what he was saying, his eyes frantically searching hers. She had to stay. He would do anything to keep her here. Anything.

"I am still owing you that flight," he told her. She hadn't let him take her flying yet. They had snuck away in the library...in the rooftop garden...in her office. But he had never gotten to take her flying. He had never gotten to take her out into Velaris. They had never had a date at a fancy restaurant, had never gone to see the symphony. There were thousands of things that he hadn't yet gotten to do with his mate, because they had all the time in the world.

Irena just stared at him, her eyes pleading, as her heartbeat slowed, fluttering weaker and weaker. Azriel felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear clawed at his spine. "Just hold on a little longer, love," he whispered. "Please."

And then there Madja. Thank the cauldron. There she was.

Azriel could barely manage to let go of her, his mind consumed with the singular thought of Irena's laboured, erratic heartbeat as he moved back. Madja immediately set to work.

He lunged for her head, lunged to pull it on his lap, to touch her with blood slick fingertips, her normally rosy red lips pale, her skin even whiter than usual.

"Hurts," she whispered, as Madja set to work, barking orders.

"I know, I know, love," he whispered, touching her cheek with his fingertips as Madja got to work.

His eyes searched hers as he murmured those words over and over, as if he could somehow hold her in this world through sheer force of will alone.

"We haven't had enough time," he whispered desperately, leaning his forehead against hers.

She was slipping away. He could feel it. Feel her slipping, feel her heartbeat slow. Feel the thread that tethered her to this world fray, fray, fray...

No. He couldn't lose her. Would not let her leave him. He had waited far too long for her. Far, far too long to let her slip through his fingers.

"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay with me."

But her eyes were slipping shut, her head lolling to the side. He gently patted her cheek, trying to urge her back to consciousness, but he didn't think he was even really aware of what he was doing, where he was. The world had boiled down to a desperate litany, in his head. Stay...stay...please...don't you dare...

“I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight,” he told her fiercely.

He needed her to know that he would be there to be furious with her if she dared to die, that she couldn't die. Couldn't. That she had to stay. Had to keep fighting. There were too many things ahead of them...a wedding to plan, children to have, years and years of life to live.

“Az,” she breathed his name, her eyes not even open anymore.

“Open your eyes, Irena,” he demanded. “Look at me, love,”

Her eyes finally fluttered open at his command. It was barely more than a slither of brown, but he latched onto it, taking it for what it was. A chance. A moment to get through to her.

He wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words spilled forth from him, a litany, a desperate prayer. "Please," he breathed, "don't go...don't you dare..."

He was dimly aware that the others had gathered, but he didn't dare look away. Didn't dare look away from her as he cradled her head, trying to pour all of his prayers into those words. All of his hope and desperation.

"You can't go." A statement. An order. An absolute certainty in his voice. "I will not let you go."

He wouldn't. Would never, ever let her go. Would drag her back from the Cauldron's grasp with bloodied and broken hands if thats what had to be.

She didn't speak. Didn't need to. He could read her answer in her eyes, the determination in those brown eyes as she tried so, so hard to stay.

It was as if she were holding on for him, because he had asked her to. Because it was him there with her. Like she would fight until her last breath because he told her too. He didn't deserve this beautiful creature, who was willing to fight for him, willing to live for him.

It was something primal, something desperate, something fierce as he whispered those words over and over, like a prayer. "Fight. Fight. Fight."

And she listened. She did. He could feel her hold on, just barely grasp hold of that tether that kept her in this world. Just barely keep her eyes open.

Just look at him.

And she did, those dark eyes unfocused but open, staring up at him, watching him. Trying so, so hard. It nearly made his heart stop in the most terrible way that she was struggling for him.

And he was so proud of her. Of the way she was fighting like she was. Of the way she was grasping, hanging on to life like she was.

The seconds stretched too thin, feeling like eternities and only the slightest of moments. But her eyes were open, if only barely. She hadn't given up. Hadn't let go.

He was dimly aware of the others, Gwyn hovering with a worried expression, Madja murmuring quiet instructions to the others, Rhys kneeling not far away. But he barely glanced at them, barely dared to take his eyes off Irena.

He was certain that if he looked away, if he let this tenuous thread sever, that she would die. That as long as he kept her here, she wouldn't slip, wouldn't let go.

He had one hand on her cheek, her skin still clammy and pale, as her eyes slipped open and shut. But everytime, they would find his face. His eyes, like he was the only thing tethering her to the world. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her barely holding on, only that last sliver of determination keeping her here.

"Please," he pleaded, whispering those words like a prayer, like he would be praying to a vengeful god. Those moments felt like eternities, stretching on and on with only his desperate whispers. "Please..."

The world felt so still, so silent as if the world was holding its breath. Azriel's eyes locked on Irena, silently begging her, asking her to please, please...

Live, live live... he whispered those words over and over, a desperate plea to the Mother, the Cauldron, to anyone who would listen. To Irena, the only person in the entire world who truly mattered in that moment.

Her eyes were growing glassy, slipping closed only to jerk open again. Stay he demanded. Keep looking at me. Please.

She tried. Mother, she tried. Her eyes drifted to him, the smallest hint of life, of a spark there in those dark brown eyes.

He hardly dared to breathe, hardly dared to move. Afraid that any wrong move could tip her over the edge, could pull her into that chasm of non-existence that she was desperately clinging too.

He felt something pricking at his eyes, felt something in his chest cracking, breaking at the sheer intensity of emotions thrumming through him. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her like this, so pale, barely holding on, barely conscious...

“Alright,” Madja said quietly. “Good girl. You were so very brave.”

"Will...will she be alright?" He asked, voice hoarse.

He didn't let his eyes drift from Irena's face, her half lidded eyes staring at him. It filled him with such an intense pang of relief and fear at the same time. Relief, because she was alive...and fear, because they had been so close to losing her.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Madja warned. "But she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. It will take some time to get her vitals stable again."

He felt like he could breathe for the first time. It was almost dizzying, the sheer, intense relief that flooded through him. Irena was here. Irena would live. It filled his veins with an almost drug like euphoria, that made him light headed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

He barely managed to keep that feeling in, the pure euphoria from showing as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes finally dragging away from Irena's face to look at Madja. "Just...thank you."

He looked back at Irena, taking in her face. Alive. Still alive. Still here with him, not gone. The tension seeped from his shoulders, a strange sort of exhaustion taking over. As if all the adrenaline that had fueled him, the fear, was slowly draining out of him like water.

“Merrill,” Irena whispered, her voice near silent.

Azriel felt his fingers brush her cheek, just the gentlest touch as he tried to keep it together. It had been too close. Too, too close. He couldn't stop the overwhelming feelings flowing through him of elation and fear as he looked down at her as he looked down at her, alive. Alive and breathing and whispering soft words. "Shhh," he whispered softly. "Save your strength. Don't strain yourself."

He looked up finding Cassians gaze who just shook his head. Merrill was dead.

Azriel couldn't quite process that information, not in that moment. His eyes were still drawn to Irena, still unable to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek again, just the faintest touch as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "Rest," he instructed softly. "I'll be right there.” He promised.

“Being here to her room,” Madja said quietly.

“My room,” he corrected.

The priestesses dormitory was locked from males. If he even tried to get in there it would’ve end well for him. And he wouldn’t leave her side.

“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply.

“Gwyn,” Rhys said quietly.Azriel didn't even acknowledge Gwyn's words, didn't have the energy. All he could focus on was the way Irena's eyes had drifted shut, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She would be alright. She was going to be alright. She was alive. Right now, in that moment, thats all that mattered.

“Az, how long have the two of you…” Cassian asked hesitantly.

Azriel just shrugged, his hand resting on Irena's hair, smoothing back from her face. “Two years. She’s my mate,” he said flatly as he gathered her up. 

“Mate,” she rasped. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed softly.

[thedreammweaver]

No because I’ve been mad at the flippant “men suck” attitude in leftist spaces that leads to having 0 compassion for a while. One time I saw a post that was a celebratory screenshot of an article about how high the suicide rate in men was and I got blocked when I read the article and reblogged the screenshot with the context that it was talking about black men killing themselves due to racism and men who were victims of toxic masculinity feeling like they couldn’t get help.

That’s an extreme example but little things like “unfortunately I’m attracted to men 🤪” why is it unfortunate? I’m attracted to men, and it’s great. Men are not inherently born evil with no hope to change. Why do some leftists hold this “boys will be boys, what can you do about it” attitude just like non leftists do.

Also how do you think this shit makes trans men feel???? The constant “all men are trash, kill all men, etc.” can make us feel like shit, like we’re joining the dark side or something. At a certain point it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. And I’ve seen people who do not identify as men treated poorly in queer spaces because they LOOK like a man so they must be bad and not trustworthy, even if they’ve told people in said space they are not a man.

I have been traumatized and hurt by more men than I can count quickly, but I also know that defining a whole group of people as inherently basically born bad is wrong and will never be productive.

The current culture teaches men to be horrible, but people can be taught differently, people can change. And people can grow up not believing the things they’re taught in the first place and turn out just fine.

I understand increased anger and wariness with the “your body, my choice” shit but be productive with that anger and maybe some of these people saying this can get deprogrammed. Carrying that “men are hopelessly bad, that’s just the way they are” attitude around isn’t going to change anything.

I tried to connect with my republican father by being open about being trans and being willing to teach him about things, he has pretended that the conversation never happened which has been disappointing and exhausting but I’m going to try again. Some people don’t take the chance to be better when they’re given the choice but some do. He has gotten better over the years in some aspects through me sitting down and having hard conversations with him. It is a lot of emotional labour and pain and I could just not do it, but I want to try.

If you don’t have the time or energy to do this stuff that’s %100 understandable. Just don’t carry around this idea that man is synonymous with bad and nothing can change that, cause if that’s the widespread belief what’s the point in men even trying to change. People can’t be helped if no one believes they can be helped. Some of the men saying this are teenagers, literal children. They’re not corrupted forever because they found community in a horrible space.

posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.

those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.

radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.

ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!

"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.

it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?

[aleixis]

— ᗩᑫᑌᗩᖇIᑎᑌᗰ ₊˚.༄

0.6k words

fluff   request   probably ooc rin   googled shark facts >:3   

when it comes to dates, rin prefers nice dinners at a restaurant or movies at home, not crowded areas. but you are you. you are his girlfriend, and anything you want to do, he’s willing to try once. but when you bring up how your friend gifted you two tickets to a local aquarium, and that it would be a waste to not go, rin hesitates.

though he could have told you to regift them, he knew that would disappoint you. he saw the amounts of shark and other marine merchandise in your room. hell, your room was themed like it was under the sea, and so was everything you owned. so, rin holds his tongue and smiles, agreeing that it would be a great idea. rin would much, much rather not walk around a fish exhibit with crowds upon crowds and running children squealing.

but, when he sees the sparkle of joy in your eye when you recognize a marine animal, the smile on your face widening as you excitedly list facts about the animal, rin can't help but feel warm inside.

“–and, rin! did you know that sharks actually feel like sandpaper?” you tell rin, your eyes glittery. rin hums in response and smiles, letting you go back to your rambling. you gaze at the penguins one last time before grabbing onto rin's hand and dragging walking with him towards the next exhibit.

as you two reach the next exhibit, you smile with giddiness.

"look, rin!! they have a touch tank set up– we can pet lemon sharks!" you run over to the tank, waving rin towards you. rin smiles, your excitement infecting him as well. you and rin listen to the aquarium worker's instructions carefully before settling your hands into the cold water, fingertips brushing against the rough skin of the lemon shark. you smile with giddiness, snapping some pictures that you'd post later.

"they do feel like sandpaper," rin offhandedly remarks. you turn your head towards rin, your eyes lighting up.

"how'd you know that!"

rin mumbles under his breath, "you told me just now, remember?"

you smile to yourself– you always knew rin would be listening to you, even if it didn't seem like he was.

the employee informed you, as well as the other children at the touch tank that their time was up, and to enjoy the rest of their day. rin handed you a paper towel from a dispenser nearby to dry your hands before enclosing them in his.

"where should we go next?" he asked. "there's a shark section nearby, do you wanna go there?"

you smile up at rin and swing your arm. "yeah! let's go!!"

rin holds your hand in his as he walks with you to the shark exhibits, stopping in front of the main tank and display of the aquarium. in the tank were multiple species of fish and other marine life, but the most eye-catching was the whale shark. your grip on rin's hand tightened, your smile widening.

"oh my god, rin! it's a whale shark! i didn't know they had them in here, look! it's so cool, right? look at the patterns on it's back, it's so pretty!" you exclaim excitedly, the familiar spark in your eyes reappearing.

rin feels a warmth in his chest blooming ever so slightly. he looks up in the same direction you are and remarks, "yeah, it is pretty."

you giggle at his response, like you always do. his gaze shifts from the swimming whale shark down to you, still admiring the shark.

"i think you're more prettier, though.”

bonus content !

"hey rin, where'd you get that keychain from?" charles asks innocently, pointing toward rin's sports bag. a small shark-shaped charm hung from his sports bag's zipper, staring back in all it's cute glory. rin scowls in response, snatching the bag from charles' view. unfortunately, he was one step too late.

"huh? keychain??"

"i bet it's matching with your girlfriend– you never have cutesy things."

"i wanna see! i wanna see!"

choruses of voices flooded the PXG locker rooms, all too invested in rin's keychain. he slams his locker and storms out, his face hot.

"shut it, you lukewarm bastards!"

tysm for the request nonnie hope u enjoyed this !! if u think the bonus part is too similar to the bonus part for my sae fic you'd be correct !!! i wanted to include a keychain part so that's why ^_^;; thank u for ur time reading and make sure to reblog comment & follow 4 more bangers :3 !! luv u all mwa <33

taglist : @why2277 @koffeekat @skullvgirl

[gem-de-lune]

Can you elaborate more on what you said abt wonbin when you said “HE will be making some very selfish decisions rooted in his own Empress energy. Meaning the things and people he cares about.”

I’ve been trying but I can’t seem to understand what that means fully.

Yeah ofc!

So "He will be making some very selfish decisions" lets dissect this first.

Selfish means to do what you want without regard for others. We know that already. However, this doesn't always mean you have NO regard, it means you are disregarding either *Someone* OR *multiple someones* but not always ALL. This is why selfishness is a grey area and not always inherently bad. Most of us know this already, so just setting the tone.

So when i say this is rooted in his Empress energy, and thus this is abt those he cares about, we are talking about maternal selfishness because the Empress is a nurturer, a mother figure.

What do moms do for their kids (the ones they care abt)?

Anything and everything, regardless of the consequences. This is inherently selfish bc they are only thinking of their desire to help their family.

So what can we assume this means?

Who does he regard as his children/family/people he cares about?

What people would he have to disregard the feelings of in order to satisfy his selfish will to protect those he cares about?

He is disregarding a group of people's feelings and wishes to serve his own selfishness, which stems from the selfish desire to protect the ones he loves. He is willing to potentially hurt others emotionally by not being as kind and generous as before to them, because he sees it as an uneven give/take (6 of pentacles).

I hope this was helpful!

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 23rd of November, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 23rd of November, 2024

Question: How is Princess Catherine? (mentally, physically, and emotionally)

Note: This reading was done with all cards in the upright position

Interpretation: Trying to move on, looking for the positive in things

Card One: The Six of Swords

This was my card for Princess Catherine mentally

The Six of Swords is a card of moving on, transitioning from one way of life to another, leaving something behind, loss that propels us forward.

The energy of this card is of someone who is trying to move on from their problems into a better state of mind.

I think that Catherine is trying to move on from an 'I have cancer I need to have treatment for this' focus to a 'looking forward to a brighter future' focus. I feel that she is trying to - not ignore her problems or health issues, but look beyond them and focus on the positives in her life, both immediate and those in the near future (eg I could attend one event last month, can I attend two events this month - that sort of positiveness). It is very much a card of transition, of the slow progress from 'not being able to do anything' to 'being able to do this amount of stuff per week'.

There is also a sense of sadness for the things she has learnt (such as the entire media being willing to ignore her request for privacy and turn her absence into a cruel 'where's wally' game). I feel that the cruelty has hurt her but she is trying to see it as a lesson about how inhumane the media can be and who she can trust to respect her wishes, and then accept it as a lesson learnt and move on, rather than dwelling on it and getting all upset about it. The energy has that sense of being in rocky waters but trying to move forward to pools of peace.

There is a sense of focusing very strongly on the positive as a way of giving herself hope and being able to keep on going, because you know the future will be better than the present, you just have to get there.

There is also a sense here of a plan for the future that includes the lessons she has learnt the past year. The future will not be the same as the past - she can't go back to how things were in the past, she is not the same person as she was then - but she can move forward and create a future that gives her what she wants after this year of realising what is truly important to her (more safety is what I want to write, more security, not physical bodyguards but being able to protect herself and her children from the cruelty of the press and the disrespect of people who think they are entitled to know everything about the Waleses).

Overall, a transition energy - taking the lessons of the past year and what has stood out as the most important values to her in the past year and using those to create a future that she would like to inhabit.

Card Two: The Five of Swords

This was my card for Princess Catherine physically

This is the card of not being able to win for losing, winning the battle but losing the war, and that is the energy that is coming off this card. Physically, she is still weak, and she is frustrated by that weakness. It's a two steps forward one step back progress and I get the feeling that she is tired of this and frustrated by it, she wants to heal faster so she can do everything she wants to do but at the same time she knows that this sort of progress is normal and overall she is doing quite well. It's very much the frustration of a physically active person who know has to basically start from scratch again and slowly build up their strength and their stamina to their pre-illness levels. I feel that it is going to take a long time for Princess Catherine to be back at her pre-illness levels of fitness, and by long time I mean years before she is fully recovered. She will be able to go out and about sooner than that but it will be very draining for her.

The energy of this card is normal frustration with the slow, non-linear progress that is recovering from a major health issue.

Card Three: Justice

This is my card for Princess Catherine emotionally

Justice is the card of legal justice, but also of any sort of justice, accountability, truth being revealed, honesty, integrity, consequences etc.

The energy of this card is one of determination and frustration. Catherine wants justice for something. Not necessarily legal justice but emotional justice. She wants to feel that she has been seen and heard, that her grievances have been addressed, that she has fixed things so this will not happen again in the future. If you know the story in the bible of the widow who kept going to the unjust judge and saying 'give me justice against my adversary', and eventually she got it - it is that sort of energy, a persistent push to see justice done, see the truth come out, see people face the consequences of their actions. I don't know what exactly this is about, but something is pushing her to get emotional justice for it - the satisfaction of seeing the truth come out about people who have hurt you.

I drew a clarifier for this, and what came out was two cards together, the Sun and the High Priestess, both of which have an energy of truth - the Sun shedding its light on the secrets kept by the High Priestess. The energy here is of a push to reveal the truth about things, an energy of 'I am sick of living with lies'. The Sun can also be a card about children - just throwing that out there.

Justice is the card of Libra, and Libra is all about balance, so it could be that Catherine is struggling to keep her emotions from veering up and down all the time, which is perfectly natural when you are recovering from an illness - it does throw your emotions out of wack and it is hard to stay balanced (and eg not get upset when you can't do as much today as you did last week).

Underlying Energy: The Empress

The Empress is a card of nurturing, femininity. creativity, nature, abundance, motherhood, and also a card of robust physical health. This is what Catherine wants, the desire underlying the above reading - to be healthy again, to be able to nurture those around her, to have the energy to create and play and have fun with her family, to be able to give back to others and nurture the wider community by doing this. It is a goal that will take time to achieve but that is her ultimate plan - to return to health so she has the energy to give to those around her, instead of being too tired and drained to be able to do much about it.

There is a minor anxiety here that she has to be ready sooner rather than later, that she is on a deadline? time limit? because what happens if she has to be queen and she is not physically ready to take on that role? So some fretting and worrying about that, which may just be the illness speaking (as in sometimes small things loom large when you are unwell and you fret about them when they are really not that important). I think this is a pressure she is putting on herself rather than anything external - she will be upset with herself if the time comes and she can't immediately step into the role that she wants to fulfil as queen.

Conclusion:

Catherine is in a very normal state for someone who is recovering from a major health issue. She is trying to get out and do things but her body is holding her back. Progress is slow and non-linear, which is frustrating. She is trying to focus on the positive and on the future. She wants to take what she has learnt over this past year and use it to shape a future that she is happy about. Emotionally, she may be a bit all over the place. There is a persistent desire or push for emotional justice of some sort. She is worried about her rate of recovery as she feels it is not fast enough and she doesn't have oodles of time to spend healing as she needs to be ready to be queen when that time comes.

[genderkoolaid]

From this article on the online presence of 4B (translations via Google, if any Korean speakers are willing to do better translations it would be appreciated):

'Womad' is an online community for biological women only. It was created in 2016 by those who split from 'Megalia' and have an attitude of exclusion towards sexual minorities, especially gays and trans women (MTF). The so-called 'trans-exclusionary radical feminists' (TERFs) are at the center. They also consider married women as 'collaborators of the patriarchy' and exclude them.

From this article on Korean radfems protesting a trans woman attending a woman's college:

The term 'tough' first appeared on the English web in 2008. Many researchers, including Kim Rina, Lee Hyo-min, and Ruin, believe that tough appeared in the field of Korean online feminism around the time of the closure of the Megalia site in 2017. They theoretically base their work on Sheila Jeffreys, a British scholar who has been leading the radical feminist movement of the 1970s and 1980s until 2020. They deny gender as a social gender and call for solidarity among women and the exclusion of men. They are the ones who popularized the so-called '4B': non-marriage, non-childbirth, non-dating, and non-sex.

There's also this interview that talks more in-depth about the above event and the nature of radical & "consumption" feminism in SK.

An effective strike had a clear, reachable goal that can be accomplished. The sex strike is Lysistrata, for example, has the goal of making the men of their city end a war. That is a specific goal that they can be clearly accomplished. 4B is not that. It's not even really a sex strike as far as I can tell, but even when used as such... it's the equivalent of going on strike in the name of Make Everything Different. And everything should be different, but it's not a very effective goal for a strike.

I don't think anyone needs any special justification to not date or have sex with men, or to not have children. But as a movement, I don't think 4B has anything to offer us that would be truly transformative. Like all forms of female separatism, it pushes us away from inter-gender solidarity and reinforces a binary, us vs them mindset when it comes to gender. This in itself creates a breeding ground for transphobia, no matter what your intentions are. In order to separate yourself from men, you need to be able to define men as a completely separate group from women and to consistently identify people as men. And that also creates an environment where closeted trans men may feel pressured to not come out or risk losing their entire support system. Any feminism that operates on the assumption that women and men are opposites, and that the binary is and should always be firm and uncrossable, WILL become transphobic even if that was not it's intention.

I recommend reading this interview, "A feminist utopianism," with feminist scholar Sophie Lewis, who has also in the past written an essay on "heterofatalism" called "Collective Turn-Off."

god i do Get It intellectually. but seeing people be like "yeah 4B sounded good until I realized it was transphobic" like. it actually never sounded good to me at all. it's not Special Untouchable Profound Magic Asian Feminism it's just female separatism which has already existed for decades.

[the-dragon-hearted]

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

help idk how to be a caregiver

TW: Brief mention of ABDL and kink

Not to worry, I’ll run you through the basics!

Firstly, Caregiving, put simply, is take care of an age regressor. And taking care of an age regressor just means helping someone who thinks and feels younger than they actually are. While this can seem daunting, especially at first, here are some tips :)

1.Firstly, communication is key. When acting as a Caregiver, you should probably know how, when, and why your Little regresses. Asking your regressor about their individual needs is really the most important thing. There isn’t a cookie cutter answer, as we all have different triggers, tastes, etc. Some good points of discussion are:

What age do they usually regress to?

How often and for how long do they usually regress?

What gear do they use?

When do you need to be present/contactable?

What are good or happy things that can cause regression? What bad things can trigger it?

Are they prone to pure or impure regression?

What things make them happy when regressed?

2. Based on the established needs of your regressor, it might be a good idea to get basic supplies. For example, snacks, sippy cups, stuffed animals, and coloring books. These are necessities, especially if they already have their own gear, though I do recommend them for ease and comfort.

3. Most regressors really just want to be cared for like children. Using nicknames such as ‘kiddo’ or ‘baby,’ helping them with tasks such as cooking, playing toys with them, talking through something scary going for a walk together; it’s all about retaining that child like experience, with you taking the place of a parent or babysitter.

4. Know their interests and hobbies and engage with them. Watching Bluey, having a tea party, reading, gaming, exploring the park—whatever it is. Just doing it with them will make them happy.

5. You might already know this since you’re on my blog, but Caregiving is in no way NSFW. It is entirely SFW. Do not confuse it for any ABDL or kink relationship. Again, you probably know this, but I do feel the need to say it since this will be circulating this side of the internet.

6. Just be there. Listen to them talk excitedly about their day. Tell them you’re proud. Give them a sticker. Remind them you love them. It’s those small things that really mean a lot. 7. Lastly, here are some important things not to do. All of the things listed below can be incredibly damaging or even traumatic

DO NOT:

Say derogatory things like “you’re too old to be acting this way.”

Sexualize their regression

Intentionally trigger them without permission

Weaponize or withhold caregiving and regression, such as “I won’t take care of you if you do this” or “I’m going to tell everyone about this if you don’t listen.”

Disrespect or disregard their opinions because of their headspace

Use corporeal punishment

Generally do/say anything that is unkind or disrespectful!

Ok, that’s all I can think of for now. I might update this as time goes on. And if anyone in the community has anymore suggestions, feel free to add them! And to you personally, anon, thx for taking the time to ask and learn about all this. I know it’s a lot, but just that you’re willing to educate yourself on the community means so much. So thank you! anyway, hope you all are having a great day!

-Marty

[mika1683]

A little rant about Vander and Silco backstory in episode 5

I saw a lot of people saying this two things:

1) The flashbacks are messing up the timeline because Silco couldnt know Vi and Powder before episode 3. Otherwise he wouldnt want to kill them because he knew thier mother and promised her to take care of them (I agree with "messing up the timeline" just not with this reasoning behind it)

2) Silco took Powder in and spare her life because of her mother and thier friendship. He would also spare Vi for same reasons

And I cant agree at all. The whole point of Silco as a character is that he would do anything for Zaun. He wouldnt care about the promise to Felicia if he thought that it blocks his way to achieving his goal. He wouldnt care that he is killing her children If he believes that thier existance could threaten his position and dreams. He totally could know Vi and Powder before betrayal, he could even babysit them or smth. But it didint matter, he was willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING for Zaun. And later he was willing to sacrifice Zaun for Jinx. That's what is so tragic and saying that knowing this children would stop him is just taking away from the beauty of his development and decision to refuse Jayce's offer

About second point, he spare her because she remind him of himself. Also she was young enough to be manipulated and not hate him. She was too young to be a threat and that's what save her. Vi on the other hand was old enough to understand what happened and hate Silco, so she would die regardless of who her mother was

[moonlight-prose]

wip wednesday!

thank you for the tags @joelsgoldrush @eupheme @elflutter @joelsdagger & @sceletaflores!! i didn't do this last week cause i was thoroughly exhausted but i am very excited about what's cooking in my drafts this week!

Hopelessly Devoted To You

A shove against his chest had him stumbling towards the door, your entire body being used like a counterweight to push him out. He fell into the hallway with a grunt, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip to silence the laughter that threatened to echo off the empty walls. This wasn't an unusual position to find yourselves in—fighting like children who each held onto one end of a life altering secret.

Nights spent in the comfort of your home in high school with Eddie forced to sleep on the floor (per your mother's instructions) lead to picking on one another until the other caved. A past time you often ached to get back.

Maybe that's why you couldn't stop smiling at the sight of him trying to cling to the edge of your doorway. Maybe that's why your heart was set to burst when he snuck back in to simply hear you shout his name.

Two humans helplessly gone for one another with nothing to show for it but a lifetime of friendship. Never meant to be more than this.

"Night kitten!" he called from his room, the door shutting with a soft thud as you slipped beneath the thick comforter.

"Goodnight Eddie," you sighed, settled atop the mountain of pillows, your eyes fixed on the frame a few feet away.

The smiling image of younger you mocked the current situation; her haughty demeanor formed a sour pit in your stomach, your body desperate to curl in on itself the longer you stared at the past. You were so naive back then. Ready and willing to jump when Eddie gave you the go ahead. But what's changed? How had you moved away from that young hopeless girl? You still gave into his pleas, you relinquished your strength and handed it over without taking a second to think perhaps you should have considered the fallout.

Eddie said jump.

And suddenly you found yourself in New York.

Still naive. Still hopelessly in love with a man who might never see you as anything other that highschool girl. The kitten who trailed after him looking for an owner who might show you some love, who might spare you a second glance.

"Pathetic," you muttered, flipping to your other side in the hopes that sleep would find you.

The creak of your partially shut door is what roused you from a restless and fitful two hours of chasing sleep to no avail. Your eyes cracked open in the pitch black, body rolling to see the kitchen light illuminate a rather tall and shirtless Eddie. He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes bleary with lack of sleep, and wordlessly you pulled the blankets back to the empty side on your right.

A smile curled on his lips, lazy and barely there, but it lit you up from the inside out—his feet softly padding on the cement floor as he stumbled through the room. Unsuccessfully if the whispered cuss word muttered under his breath after hitting his leg was anything to go by. You hid your grin beneath the edge of the comforter, feeling the bed dip when he shuffled to find the comfiest spot.

"'S fucking cold in here," he mumbled, shoving the blanket up to his neck.

"It's your apartment."

"Yeah, yeah. Just c'mere." He sighed, long and bordering on defeat. "I missed you."

He didn't give you the option of backing out, his hands grasping blindly for your waist. Of course, you didn't put up much of a fight either. The bed felt desolate in his absence. As if it'd been waiting for him all this time—hoping he might come to fill the gaps where frigid air seeped through. Somehow Eddie remained your knight in shining armor. Your savior against the horrors no matter how minuscule.

Dark bedrooms and empty beds included.

Silence swept over you in gentle soothing waves. The promise of sleep settled contently in your grasp, allowing you a moment to finally rest for the first time since you got on that plane. But you couldn't find it in you to close your eyes. Instead you let your gaze wander over Eddie's face as he sunk into the depths of sleep—his hand clasped in yours and settled between your bodies.

"Hey Eddie," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"I missed you too."

tagging: @ovaryacted @silverskyeline @guiltyasdave @superhoeva @zloshy

[swapauanon]

Except that's not how the Force works.

Canonically, the Jedi's "strict teachings" as according to George Lucas himself, are based off Buddhist teachings.

You ARE allowed to love people (contrary to what the Acolyte says), but forbidding attachments means you have to be willing to let go of them. Marriage is also forbidden, because a Jedi's first duty is to the galaxy, and having a spouse would be a conflict of interest.

Eraqus' teachings fell flat because he was asking Terra to reject and deny a part of himself, whereas the Jedi teach emotional control (not emotional suppression).

Anakin fell to the Dark Side because he IGNORED everything the Jedi taught him that went against his own hedonistic desires.

His love for Padme is based off a desire to own and control her. Once what Padme wanted went against what he wanted, he COMPLETELY forgot that he was doing all of this to save her life and force-choked her to death.

When his mother died, he completely forgot everything the Jedi taught him and killed all of the tuskens, INCLUDING the children who had nothing to do with his mother's death.

Even in the Legends Continuity, where Jedi weddings WERE a thing, Luke and Mara WAITED until they were certain that they would be able to put the greater good first before they got married. This is what allowed Luke to avoid falling to the Dark Side when his wife died.

If the Jedi's teachings WERE what caused Anakin to fall, then the fact of the matter is that the Jedi Order would have collapsed under its own weight WELL before Anakin showed up.

The simple fact of the matter is that Anakin Fell because he had no interest in being a Jedi. He just wanted power to fulfill his own hedonistic desires.

Had he NOT become Darth Vader and run away with Padme instead, I guarantee you that Luke and Leia would've both grown to despise him for his controlling parenting and resent their mother for not doing anything to reign him in.

Eraqus, meanwhile, would not make a good Jedi either. While he does not reject emotions the way fanon Jedi do, the fact is that his fatal flaw is COWARDICE. He used to be the first to flee from danger in his youth, and as an adult he resorts to violence first and foremost when Ventus tells him something that scares him when simply asking Ventus who told him that and what Xehanort was planning would've allowed him to derail Xehanort's schemes.

The Jedi Council do not jump straight to lethal force unless forced to. They can peacefully coexist with the Dark-aligned Nightsisters in spite of the Nightsisters being pretty evil, because unlike the Sith they mostly keep to themselves. When they do get into fights with them, it's because the Nightsisters started it.

And while people present the Mandalorian way as superior, they forget that the Mandalorian way is mindless bloodshed, constant posturing, and endless infighting that leaves their society on the verge of collapse the second they get rid of the ONE woman who was trying to make them a functioning culture.

Heck, just yesterday I saw a post that lists off a BUNCH of Force Religions the Jedi coexist with just fine.

Eraqus would not be someone who'd have a seat on the Jedi Council, unless he could learn to control his own fear and not act so impulsively.

(And before you start bashing Mace Windu: Note that he was pretty friendly with Anakin in most contexts, had intended to arrest Palpatine when he learned he was playing both sides, and only escalated to trying to kill Palps when the Sith in questions butchered four Jedi and started blasting evil lightning out of his fingertips. Frankly, the fact that Palpatine lived long enough to throw him out of a window is a testament to Mace Windu being too merciful for his own good.)

And before you try to play the "Clones" card, note that the Clone Army was forced on the Jedi, the Jedi regularly encouraged the Clones to think for themselves, and ANAKIN was the only recurring Jedi to treat the Clones as expendable.

Gee, it's almost like Anakin was the problem all along!

Okay but, I think it would be funny if Star Wars were to appear in Kingdom Hearts, because Star Wars very much strictly adheres to "light is good, dark is evil" while Kingdom Hearts goes for "dark is dangerous, but not necessarily evil by default".

So like...

Imagine it leading to a lot of confusion until they eventually figure out the issue is just a difference in what's defined as Light or Dark.

The KH cast define Light and Dark based off of fundamental and natural forces in the universe.

In Star Wars, Light Side is how the Force is SUPPOSED to be used, while the Dark Side is a perversion of the Force that is inherently harmful.

This, hilariously enough, means that any Jedi who's especially attuned to the Light Side of the Force would probably have an easy time using the KH version of the powers of Darkness without fear thanks to their excellent self-control.

The Sith, meanwhile, would all be on the fast track to becoming mindless Heartless thanks to their LACK of self control and constantly indulging their worst impulses to self destructive degrees.

(Look at Kylo Ren in The Force Awakens and tell me with a straight face that he wouldn't become a Heartless during the final battle if he was using KH's darkness in addition to the Dark Side of the Force.)

[alloftheseworldz]

so chat hear me out. hear me out chat. hear me ou

[dykobra-kid]

"Hold the hand of the god-child”, they said, "as he falls from the sky"

Lyrics from That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The fans: Ugh Sonic was just so preachy. I mean obviously he's supposed to be the good guy, so any uncomfortableness I feel here and any way I feel like Sonic's choices are framed as being why some other people have shitty lives is just bad writing because he is obviously supposed to be right always, but this characterization makes no sense. Isn't he right for the things he did?

Ian Flynn, using Kitsunami to say the (barely even at this point) quiet part even louder: Hey it's almost like ever since the Mr. Tinker event we've been purposely running with the critique of Sonic as being more selfish than he appears. Sonic is upholding a system of Eggman v Sonic that currently benefits him and shuts down talk of how to improve the current system because he likes his own personal enjoyment and he's attached enough to Eggman that he'd rather Eggman pretend to be a good person than be stuck in prison for life. He doesn't even quite practice what he preaches. We are trying to show that the current hero v villain system and Sonic's recklessness currently affects some people poorly and that Sonic isn't a perfect hero.

[wonder-worker]

this is a Princes in the Tower and Edward of Lancaster stan account btw

[creative-hanyou-girl]

You guys know on how InuYasha, the few times he talks about it, badmouths his father and says he doesn't care to avenge his death when he battles Ryukoltsei?

I wonder if InuYasha starts to regret his mindset towards his father once he himself becomes a father. Or at the very least, he starts to understand his father better. Especially if you want to go by the Movie 2 canon where part of Toga's death was from protecting InuYasha and his mom.

Just makes me wonder if InuYasha looks at Moroha or any of his other children and has the thought that it'd break his heart if any of his kids felt resentment towards him like he felt for his own father, especially when everything he ever does is to protect them. And I wonder if it makes InuYasha start to look at his father's memory differently, now that he's a parent himself and would do anything and everything to protect his kids, even if it meant dying and leaving them without a father.

Not that he'd go and try to get himself killed, as he wants to actually be alive so they don't have to grow up like he did, but you know he'd sacrifice himself if it meant his children could live, just like his father did for him (according to movie 2).

I don't know, I just wonder if InuYasha starts to ever regret the way he looked at his father's memory back when he was a teen once he becomes a father to Moroha and starts to understand his father's actions as a parent now that he himself is a parent. Ya know what I mean?