#women as our own entire human beings

[where-our-stories-start]

Little Women (2019) // Simone de Beauvoir // The Woman Who Rides Like a Man (Tamora Pierce) // The Color Purple // Persuasion (Jane Austen) // Catherine, Called Birdy (2022) // tumblr.com

[novella-november]

Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.

I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.

Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D

Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!

It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!

As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!

Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),

but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--

you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!

[shmowder]

just need to vent about the Olympics

[wilwheaton]

The GOP wonders why young people (and others) don't want to vote for them. Some wise scribe assembled this list.

1.) Your Reagan-era “trickle-down economics” strategy of tax breaks for billionaires that you continue to employ to this day has widened the gap between rich and poor so much that most of them will never be able to own a home, much less earn a living wage.

2.) You refuse to increase the federal minimum wage, which is still $7.25 an hour (since 2009). Even if it had just kept up with inflation, it would be $27 now. You’re forcing people of all ages but especially young people to work multiple jobs just to afford basic necessities.

3.) You fundamentally oppose and want to kill democracy; have done everything in your power to restrict access to the ballot box, particularly in areas with demographics that tend to vote Democratic (like young people and POC). You staged a fucking coup the last time you lost.

4.) You have abused your disproportionate senate control over the last three decades to pack the courts with religious extremists and idealogues, including SCOTUS—which has rolled back rights for women in ways that do nothing but kill more women and children and expand poverty.

5.) You refuse to enact common sense gun control laws to curb mass shootings like universal background checks and banning assault weapons; subjecting their entire generation to school shootings and drills that are traumatizing in and of themselves. You are owned by the NRA.

6.) You are unequivocally against combatting climate change to the extent that it’s as if you’ve made it your personal mission to ensure they inherit a planet that is beyond the point of no return in terms of remaining habitable for the human race beyond the next few generations.

7.) You oppose all programs that provide assistance to those who need it most. Your governors refused to expand Medicaid even during A PANDEMIC. You are against free school lunches, despite it being the only meal that millions of children can count on to actually receive each day

8.) You are banning books, defunding libraries, barring subject matter, and whitewashing history even more in a fascistic attempt to keep them ignorant of the systemic racism that this nation was literally founded upon and continues to this day in every action your party takes.

9.) You oppose universal healthcare and are still trying to repeal the ACA and rip healthcare from tens of millions of Americans and replace it with nothing. You are against lowering the cost of insulin and prescription drugs that millions need simply to LIVE/FUNCTION in society.

10.) You embrace white nationalists, Neo-Nazis, and other groups that are defined by their intractable racism, xenophobia, bigotry, and intolerance. You conspired with these groups on January 6th to try to overthrow the U.S. government via domestic terrorism that KILLED PEOPLE.

11.) You oppose every bill aimed at making life better for our nation’s youth; from education to extracurricular and financial/nutritional assistance programs. You say you want to “protect the children” while you elect/nominate pedophiles and attack trans youth and drag queens.

12.) You pretend to be offended by “anti-semitism” while literally supporting, electing, and speaking at events organized by Nazis. You pretend to hate “cancel culture” despite the fact that you invented it and it’s basically all you do.

13.) Every word you utter is a lie. You are the party of treason, hypocrisy, crime, and authoritarianism. You want to entrench rule by your aging minority because you know that you have nothing to offer young voters and they will never support you for all these reasons and more.

14.) You’re so hostile to even the notion of helping us overcome the mountain of debt that millions of us are forced to take on just to pay for our post K-12 education that you are suing to try to prevent a small fraction of us from getting even $10,000 in loan forgiveness.

15.) You opened the floodgates of money into politics via Citizens United; allowing our entire system of government to become a cesspool of corruption, crime, and greed. You are supposed to represent the American people whose taxes pay your salary but instead cater to rich donors.

16.) You respond to elected representatives standing in solidarity with their constituents to protest the ONGOING SLAUGHTER of children in schools via shootings by EXPELLING THEM FROM OFFICE & respond to your lack of popularity among young people by trying to raise the voting age.

17.) You impeach Democratic presidents over lying about a BJ but refuse to impeach (then vote twice to acquit) a guy whose entire “administration” was an international crime syndicate being run out of the WH who incited an insurrection to have you killed.

18.) You steal Supreme Court seats from democrats to prevent the only black POTUS we’ve ever had from appointing one and invent fake precedents that you later ignore all to take fundamental rights from Americans; and even your “legitimate” appointments consist of people like THIS (sub-thread refuting CJ Roberts criticisms of people attacking SCOTUS' legitimacy).

19.) You support mass incarceration even for innocuous offenses or execution by cop for POC while doing nothing but protect rich white criminals who engage in such things as tax fraud, money laundering, sex trafficking, rape/sexual assault, falsifying business records, etc.

20.) You are the reason we can’t pass:—Universal background checks—An assault weapons ban—The ‘For the People/Freedom to vote’ Act or John Lewis Voting Rights Act—The ERA & Equality Act—The Climate Action Now Act—The (Stopping) Violence Against Women Act—SCOTUS expansion.

21.) You do not seek office to govern, represent, or serve the American people. You seek power solely for its own sake so you can impose your narrow-minded puritanical will on others at the expense of their most fundamental rights and freedoms like voting and bodily autonomy.

22.) Ok, last one. You are trying to eliminate social security and Medicare that tens of millions of our parents rely on and paid into their entire lives. And you did everything to maximize preventable deaths from COVID leaving millions of us in mourning.

Source: https://imgur.com/gallery/e8DBZLH

[taliabhattwrites]

The Sexed Regime, or: You Probably Have the Wrong Critiques of "TME/TMA" Terminology

Let's begin by looking at an interesting dichotomy.

There's an oddly pervasive idea in queer spaces that a truly progressive trans or post-gender politic underscores the irrelevance of sex. In contrast to patriarchal society's utter fixation on "natal sex", queer existence must be transcendent, a space in which one's bodily configuration is understood to be entirely under one's purview, where presentation is simply something we inhabit and implies nothing about our sexualities or embodiments. It is an idea of emancipation rooted in agnosticism, an anti-patriarchal revolution spurred by the lack of belief in our cissexist society's deranged emphasis on knowing what's in our pants at all times.

It's a very appealing idea, I'll admit.

Here's the thing, though.

The naturalization of sex is the foundation of patriarchy, as well as the basis of the heterosexual regime it instantiates. Humanity is cleft in twain, with one sex marked for reproductive-sexual exploitation by the other. Like most other regimes, this one is also powered by belief--belief in the superiority of the 'male sex', the unfitness of the 'female sex', and most of all: absolute belief that sex is immutable, exhaustively binary, and non-overlapping.

What this also means, ultimately, is that those of us who dare to desert the sex we were conscripted into face different pressures and violence. It is obvious that many trans people are also subject to reproductive injustice, as cis women are, and consequently the transphobia they face is very acutely a regendering impulse, a patriarchal desire to drag them back to the confines of womanhood to fulfill their patriarchal purpose. There is, understandably, a certain amount of solidarity between cis women and trans people who have suffered these aspects of the heterosexual regime.

This is in fact the understanding that gives rise to even liberal-progressive uses of 'male socialization' directed at transfems. Trans women are understood to have been spared certain excesses of misogynistic violence and therefore expected to see and approach the world differently. It is simply a neutral observation, of course, no judgment behind it ... well, until it comes time to deny trans women epistemic authority over experiences of misogyny or womanhood, even their own. After all, can transfems really be said to have a full understanding of patriarchy? They weren't 'raised AFAB'!

Oftentimes, this becomes a double bind of proving that transfems did experience trauma, feminization, and abuse even pretransition, often as children, which is then usually dismissed as "trauma dumping" or "equating womanhood to being abused"--despite the minimization of our experiences being predicated on our "lesser" understanding of the trauma of being "misogyny-affected". So let's not retread that.

Instead, I'll point out that people assume a symmetry, a complementarian equivalence, almost, between the experiences of trans people. What I would like to stress is that there is no such thing as a coherent "AMAB" class or a shared "AMAB solidarity" based on shared experiences of oppression, because I have some shocking news that readers may wish to sit down for:

Trans women are oppressed by cis men.

Cis men are overwhelmingly the ones who rape us, beat us, kill us, and seek to abuse us. When we were children, we were bullied and violated for our perceived effeminacy, largely by the cis boys we were most proximate to. Most of us have been around cis men when they've voiced their most dehumanizing, misogynistic thoughts about women, and have been punished for not participating in these rituals of misogynistic rhetoric, too. The trauma of our upbringing involves being locked into spaces with those who sniffed out our differences, our non-conformance, and routinely punished us for being deviant. When we grow up, they are the ones who largely continue to prey on us.

The chief characteristic of transmisogyny is the presumed artificiality of trans womanhood, the idea that we are mimetics, and our womanhood is a farce, a costume whose only purpose is sexual. This dovetails with our disposability--our inability to be women who can bear children, further patrilineality, and secure what minuscule respectability is afforded to the domestically-confined women who continue the male line. As such, our hyperfetishization marks us for extreme violence, as sexual objects that can be freely used and discarded, guilt-free, because after all ... We asked for it.

Why would we "choose" womanhood if we did not want this?

Which, ultimately, brings me to my point: Sex is a social regime of difference imposed on us, but it is, unfortunately, a regime still in existence. My sex is the basis upon which my womanhood is denied and my disposability justified, because the transfeminized are degendered--we are not, as a rule, provided a path "back" to manhood. Our "effeminacy" ensures that we are 'failed' men, because gender is ultimately hierarchal. Losing status, being unmanned, is frankly trivial, and is what underlies the oppression of queer men--trans men included. Most of us are ultimately subject to some kind of degendering, largely due to how a patriarchal society regards those who defy the reproductive mandate, but transmisogyny is a specific manifestation of degendering that trans women experience.

"TME/TMA" may well be an imperfect categorization--all undertakings in boundary formation are imprecise, though not always violent, given that we need descriptive terms to communicate--but the real issue with it is that it's an overly-ponderous and ultimately clunky terminology for the frank reality that the binary sex imposed on us shapes the contours of the violence we experience. I have never experienced the specific kind of misogyny that sees me as nothing but a broodmare, because I'm a filthy troon, that dehumanized abject thing whose only purpose is absorbing (sexual) violence. Yet the acknowledgment that transfems experience forms of violence that others do not--or sometimes, even the acknowledgment that transfems face violent misogyny at all--is much less forthcoming.

Our struggles are indelibly connected, of course, stemming from the same source and promulgated by the same regime that seeks to define us as nothing more than male property. The shape of each is distinct, however, and because people frequently misunderstand the shape of mine, the idea that my struggles are even connected to theirs, that I experience misogynistic violence homoousian with that which they experience, is frequently dismissed, or considered outright offensive.

This is why I talk and write about transmisogyny, and why more people need to become more familiar with how the naturalization of sex and the regime of heterosexuality under patriarchy necessitates our common struggle.

And unfortunately, in order to properly express these ideas, we do need to talk about the regime of sex.

[calder]

Released in 2010, Obsidian Entertainment's Fallout: New Vegas actively concerns itself with the realities of gay existence, and is widely recognized as a noteworthy work of queer science fiction. New Vegas extensively examines social attitudes towards homosexuality among the game's major factions, and primarily conveys this lore through gay and bisexual characters describing their own experiences. It also allowed the player to mechanically set the Courier's sexual orientation. By taking both available perks, the player character can be bisexual. By choosing neither, the player can opt out of seeing flirtatious dialogue options.

Uniquely, Fallout: New Vegas explores homosexuality in the context of wasteland societies, and touches upon related issues. The core theme of New Vegas is that the desire to recreate the past is driven by irrational nostalgia, and any endeavor to manifest past glory is dangerous and doomed. The social issue of homophobia is used as a demonstrative example. The resurrection of corporate and military power structures presents new avenues for Old World problems such as institutional homophobia to reemerge. One of the many issues that divide the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion is the latter's open persecution of gay people. The NCR is described as tolerant and even accepting of same-sex relationships, though acceptance tends to fall off the further one moves away from the developed, urbanized core of New California. In recent years, the Republic's rapid economic transformation has led to an unforeseen erosion of the humanitarian ideals which it was founded to serve. In practice, to recreate America was to take on its shortcomings and its sins. As subsistence scavenging has dried up, the people of the NCR increasingly turn to wage labor, entrepreneurial venture, or military enlistment to keep their families fed. Meanwhile, their government enacts morally corrosive imperialism (narrative verbiage), their dominion expanding indefinitely as their infrastructure crumbles from within. This has led to a profit-based imperial monoculture which must conquer, consume, and coerce to perpetuate. As personal politics and service labor grow in importance, people find themselves more inclined to present as "normal" in the interest of financial stability and political expedience. A loading screen visualizes this culture of artificial social normalcy: the portrait of President Aradesh on the NCR 5$ bill neglects to depict his unibrow, earring, and facial scarification, overall portraying the once-chieftain so cleanly-cut as to be unrecognizable at first glance. He also appears to be wearing a collared shirt or suit as opposed to the robe he wore in Fallout.

In the Legion, Caesar has mandated that every legionnaire take a wife and produce children, citing high infant mortality rates and the constant need for soldiers, and going as far as instituting child quotas. He treats human beings as a resource to be exploited for war. Ostensibly in this aim homosexuality has been declared a capital offense punishable by death. Historically, routine demonstrations of violence towards women and gay people are a deliberate feature of fascist societies, the only logical cultural conclusion of a government devoted entirely to war and control. In Forlorn Hope letter 9, an NCR soldier wrote wrote the following to his boyfriend:

Dearest Andrew, Writing this seems pretty morbid, but tomorrow we march into the no man's land between our camp and Nelson, which is crawling with Legion. The Major insisted I write this damn "if you get this, I'm dead" letter so here it is. What a crock. I have the luck of the devil and your love on my side, so I'll be home soon. Keep the porch light on for me. We'll party in New Vegas when I get back. I love you. —Devin

Devin believed he would prevail over the Legion because his love would keep him safe. He was found dying or dead on the battlefield, the letter was found on his body. In a post-release patch, the injured soldiers were removed from the battlefield for performance reasons, and never re-implemented. Driven largely in reaction to the Legion's hyper-masculine posturing and misogyny, rumors persist across the Mojave that gay male relationships are not only common within the Legion, but condoned. These rumors are repeated commonly in NCR society. A closeted NCR Major mentions that the Legion is "a little more... forgiving" about close male "friendships," speaking in a hushed tone to avoid suspicion. At the same outpost, the player can encounter Cass, a bisexual civilian woman. She may flirt with a male Courier, who may imply they are gay, prompting her to imply gay men are more common in the Legion. Even as gay men fight and die in the name of love under his command, NCR General Oliver may remark to Courier Six at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam: "If you think after all that's happened, I'm going to grab my ankles and take it like the Legion..."

This writing pertains to institutionalized homophobia which manifests in practice though power structures and social interactions without being written into law. Simply put, in his derogatory remark, the general expresses to his army that military surrender is gay, much like their gay enemy. From the brevity and bluntness of this remark, it's clear that this sentiment is already well understood among his ranks. Logically, to project strength in the eyes of such a leader, one might also project homophobia by scrutinizing and harassing one's peers and subordinates. In this atmosphere, the expression of homophobia is not only normalized, but materially incentivized. For the ambitious, it becomes a tool, and a way of casting shame upon rivals. For the closeted, homophobia becomes a survival tactic, hoping to throw scrutiny off oneself. This is why Major Knight is immediately frightened when a male Courier flirts with him. He is so profoundly alienated that he romanticizes life as a gay man under the Legion. The Legion punish homosexuality with death, and yet Knight characterizes them as more "forgiving" than the NCR. Through these apparently disparate events, the audience can trace how a distorted perception of gay people emerges among insecure men in a military environment, and subsequently becomes ingrained in the corresponding civilian culture. At the 188 Trading Post, a lesbian from the Brotherhood of Steel named Veronica also wryly remarks that she believes legionaries have gay sex about as often as straight sex. She also notes that this only applies to men, as women have no rights whatsoever in Legion society. In this aside, she conveys a pre-existing frustration with lesbophobic social norms. Veronica also mentions that the people of her bunker would rather she remain on the surface. The Mojave Brotherhood of Steel has no official policy prohibiting homosexuality, but an implicit attitude among its dominant members that their limited numbers require everyone to have children to avoid extinction. Numerically, this may seem logical on the surface, given their reluctance to recruit outsiders. However, given their tiny population, this is an ineffective countermeasure, as they do not have nearly enough members to maintain genetic diversity for more than a few generations. This approach is not universally supported by all family units within the Brotherhood, but every individual is ultimately at the mercy of the elder. Veronica was in a lesbian relationship, but they were quietly separated by Elder Elijah, due to the dominant culture of enforcing heterosexual pairing among their population.

Caesar's law has not ended homosexuality within his domain. Despite the obvious risks, some legionaries have continued to pursue relationships behind closed doors, especially given their access to slaves. So long as members complete their societal obligations and fulfill the child quotas, they are able to pursue romance with other men in secret. Homosexual relationships in the faction are noted as being relatively equal compared to the average Legion husband and wife, in a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" sort of open secret policy. Gay legionaries must always make sure to keep their activities hidden. A centurion was once almost caught fraternizing with the teenage boy he had chosen to tend his tent. Despite previous "romantic" intentions, he quickly resolved to dispose of the slave to dispel suspicion. Had they been caught together, the centurion would have been charged with homosexuality and sentenced to death. This story is only known because the enslaved young man, Jimmy, managed to escape execution. Further illustrating the cruelty intrinsic to Legion governance, it's stated that homosexuality was the crime, and not the rape of a young slave; in fact, it seems Jimmy was forced to contribute to the child quota despite being a gay teenager, and the experience left him traumatized. He has resolved to never have sex with another woman, as the very notion triggers memories which fill him with disgust, and (in his own words) makes him feel like a slave all over again. The Strip is indifferent to gay people, viewing them as another opportunity to make caps. Both the Gomorrah and the Atomic Wrangler are interested in maximizing profits, and their prostitution services cater to clients regardless of their orientation. The openly gay Jimmy works at nearby Casa Madrid, but there is some tension among his peers due to his co-worker Maude's blatant homophobia. She supposes he's "okay, for one of those," and if propositioned by a female Courier, Maude will direct them to Sweetie for such "perverted" services. Pretty Sarah must regularly intervene to keep the peace among her staff.

The Followers of the Apocalypse, well-read punks who seek to embody healing through anarchistic values, are not concerned with gender. Most are openly and casually sexually active. Upon meeting Courier Six, Arcade Gannon offhandedly makes his gayness known, unprompted. The audience must face the fact that Arcade's apprehension of the Legion is far from abstract; under Legion law, he would be put to death. One possible ending gives further insight into Caesar's hypocrisy: should the player sell Arcade into slavery and leave Caesar alive, he will keep Arcade as a personal physician and philosophical advisor. They intellectually spar at length, and Caesar grows singularly fond of him. Accordingly, Arcade imitates the historic suicide of Cato the Younger by disemboweling himself. The Legion's remaining medics attempted to save his life, but none were Arcade's equal. Caesar understood his doctor's final gesture of contempt, and mourned him for months.

New Vegas ventures further into themes of healing from the trauma of sexual violence, from the perspective of a lesbian character. Corporal Betsy, an NCR sharpshooter, is a rape survivor, and suffers with PTSD from the incident. Her unprocessed trauma has manifested as a maladaptive tendency to aggressively and explicitly proposition the women she encounters, in an effort to reassert a sense of control. This defensive hypersexual impulse has negatively impacted her ability to connect with other women. A male superior officer notes that her behavior is inappropriate for anyone of her stature, but abstains from disciplining her out of sincere concern for her mental health. The Courier can help her begin to recognize these problems, and convince her to seek treatment from Doctor Usanagi at the New Vegas medical clinic, which proves helpful to her as she processes and heals from her trauma.

In Old World Blues, the Think Tank are five floating brains in jars who express themselves by waving robotic arms bearing screens depicting facial features. Before the War, they were federal scientists who committed crimes against humanity in the name of weapons development. Each is stuck in some sort of neuro-bionic feedback loop which prevents them from moving forward with their projects, mentally binding them to their central laboratory. Walking through their homes at Higgs Village, it's clear each was deeply neurotic before they were transformed into floating brains. Now without bodies, they attempt to maintain the illusion that they are exempt from sexuality as purely mental beings, but each displays obvious interest in the human form. They have codified this shaming with the term "formography." Most of the men are obsessively defensive over their complete disinterest in penises, which they talk about constantly. However, the shameless Dr. Dala shows overwhelming interest in observing and recording any and all human functions. Already androgynous in her pre-War life, Dala has taken to self-identifying as a "gender neutral entity" (though she is not known to use they/them pronouns). Regardless of the Courier's gender, they may coquettishly scratch themselves, clear their throat, and stretch in front of Dala until her biomed gel decoagulates. Dr. 8 also responds positively to graphic masturbation advice from Couriers of either gender. The X-8 research facility is ostensibly a massive immersive shrine to Doctor Borous's hatred of Richie "Ball-Lover" Marcus, a long-dead child who bullied Borous centuries ago. He also clings to his resentment of one Betsy Bright, who refused to attend a dance with him, supposedly so she could "go smoke with RICHIE MARCUS." Clearly arrested in development, Borous has literally built a temple to the fantasy of torturing his adolescent romantic rival and feeding him to dogs. His frozen, static characterization of the jock Richie Marcus as a "pinko-commie" who "likes balls" reflects the shallowness, pettiness, and overall misanthropy underlying his patriotic identity. It remains apparent throughout Old World Blues that the Think Tank are all chronically sexually repressed, which is inseparable from the values of the violent and judgmental pre-War culture which created them. With time and isolation, this ingrained repression has manifested as various intense and deranged psychosexual behaviors, including rage-fueled homophobia, voyeurism, and the obsessive performance of puritanical pretense.

____

“Although I’ve been out for a very long time, I made a conscious effort to be out with relation to this project, as I wanted to be visible as a lesbian in the game industry. New Vegas itself is, I think, one of (if not the) best games out there in how we treat homosexuality – and all of that is very intentional.”

“If my work on FNV, if my being out has helped even one gay person, then I have succeeded.” — Tess “Obsidian’s Gay Cowgirl” Treadwell

____

written (with help from other editors) for fallout.fandom.com/wiki/LGBT_representation_in_the_Fallout_series criticism welcome

[beta-therapy]

How to Deal with Sadness/Frustration from Rejection

We’ve all been there. We’ve all had a crush on a beautiful woman and wanted to give her the world, only to find out she has no sexual interest in us. Maybe she puts you in the friendzone; or maybe she makes it clear she wants nothing to do with you at all. It’s normal to feel frustrated in these situations, knowing that she probably has a vibrant sex life with other men, yet doesn’t have any sexual interest toward you.

When this happens over and over again, it can make us question our own self-worth: how come so many women have decided that sex is an activity which is off-limits to me? Do my sexual needs not matter? How come a woman can be salivating with excitement as she begs certain men to engage her in the most personal of ways—whereas with me, so much as asking if she’s single gets me permanently labelled as a creep?

As society becomes more and more accepting of personal freedoms, (especially regarding women) like allowing people to dress how they want, freely express themselves, do what they want in their own bedroom, etc., there indeed looms an increasing mental health crisis among those men who don’t get included in all the sexual fun. They can feel inferior and isolated. In this blog, I’ll discuss how to handle these emotions.

Although it might bring you feelings of shame, insecurity, and jealousy to find out that women consider you unsuitable for sex, it is important to understand that these feelings are rooted in misogyny. It is an outdated, oppressive idea that the goal of a man’s life is to acquire dominance, status, power, and wealth; and use this prestige to seduce beautiful women. This idea is so evil because it views women as beauty objects rather than equal human beings. Women are not trophies.

Women are full human beings with no less intelligence, leadership abilities, creativity, and dignity than the men who forced them to be quiet and submissive for all human history. A lot of men still refuse to acknowledge this today. They want to keep seeing women as less intelligent, less capable, submissive homemakers whose value comes from their sexual beauty.

That sexy woman you know probably does have a passionate sex life, but you should strive to admire her as a person: smart, strong, kind, witty, dignified. She can still have all these great qualities to her even if she has zero sexual interest in you. Considering her a “sexy woman” is—in and of itself—toxic masculinity at work. Why is “sexy” the first trait that comes to your mind when it’s clear that her sex life is off-limits to you? Maybe she is sexually submissive in her bedroom, but why should that concern you? She’s allowed to explore the “feminine” part of her existence in her private life without it subtracting from her value as an interesting, fascinating person in her public life.

You can still be a happy, nice, and fulfilled person even if all the women around you would prefer not to have sex with you. Just because the female community around you doesn’t want you as a sexual/romantic person, doesn’t mean you have been rejected as a person entirely. Sexuality is just one component of the human experience, and it’s very common throughout history for people to be deprived of it.

We have evolved for survival and reproduction, not necessarily to have good morals and be happy. For example, racism is part of our DNA. In prehistoric times, racism helped us stay away from warring tribes, so it was positively selected-for with respect to evolution. But in modern times, we can recognize that racism is a huge problem if we want an inclusive, happy society, and so we must actively denounce this artifact of our DNA.

Our sexuality is much the same way. Throughout history, the evil, abusive, tyrant was always better able to protect his children due to his status and wealth, in comparison to the poor, harmless, gentle, and caring man. That doesn’t mean the evil tyrant was a better person, but it does unfortunately mean that women would evolve a sexual attraction toward higher status, dominant men even if it meant overlooking their moral evil.

As a result, the things women are sexually attracted to are not necessarily the things that are good. You can take solace in this fact. Being sexually undesired by women does not mean there’s something wrong with you, it just means they see you as more harmless and submissive rather than powerful and dangerous.

[the-orange-solace]

When I was a child, I watched an episode of Criminal Minds where a man had a split personality. A woman who killed other women who threatened the man she formed to protect. I remember her sitting in the dark on a couch, a cigarette in hand beside a lamp, as she spoke to an Agent about why she had to kill them, that it was to protect him. It was her entire purpose for existing.

As a child, I used to pace empty halls in the middle of the night and lay in bed, repeating in my mind that I would be the only being in my body. I will not break into multiple people. I will be in control. I have to be because, at the time, I believed I could break into those monstrous plurals you see on TV. The ones that killed their family after years of neglect, abuse, and wrongdoing. The ones you should be afraid of ever becoming, no matter who you are or your situation.

So I became terrified.

And yet, nearly every night, I'd look up at the sky or the ceiling and beg for something to change—to not be alone. I was stuck pretending I was a different character, a type of escapism that sometimes got out of hand, lost in an identity that wasn't my own. Looking up and imagining being taken away, every character I adored was by my side, caring for me in return. I had to keep going, be them, and exist in a world with them.

I'd made up stories, different realities, and places in my mind to escape to, as well as explanations for things my underdeveloped brain couldn't comprehend in the place I found myself within. I clung to concepts, characters, and situations that reflected my own, and soon, I no longer felt alone—not with all the escapism I conjured up, not with the different identities to help me face what was happening.

But I was in control. I was one being. No matter what. I had to be a single being because that was good. I had to be good.

I would never hurt anyone, and being many meant being bad. I couldn't be bad.

When I was a teenager, I started researching and getting involved in minority and disabled spaces. I loved being informed, the stories, the many perspectives, and the complexity of humanity. So it was no surprise when I shared a plural headcanon with a friend, and they felt safe coming out to me. They were many. They took my hand and guided me through a community I was fascinated with and wanted to aid and represent like so many others.

I spent years learning, staying silent as others spoke, just listening to everything I could. But then, one day, like so many others, I spoke through a different facet, a different identity I had created as a child. The many faces of me represented things I could not be, I could not hold, nor could I handle. I was struggling; some of me wanted to lash out. So she did. She lashed out.

As always, I was faced with kindness, listening ears, and aid that then pushed me more to the surface from drowning. But I never left; just another part of me was lost, right? Of course. People are complex. I deal with my emotions in a complex way. Of course.

My plurally disabled friend watched as I became more comfortable speaking through the identities I had, whether they were facets of myself or characters that helped me. Soon enough, the continuous "role-play" and "emotional processing" developed into normal conversation, a comfort, a relief.

They kindly approached me and asked if I was a system, too. They had never met anyone who spoke to themselves like I do, definitely not any singlets. None of our other friends did, in person or not, not even people in our families. It was just us.

The fear from my childhood arose. I couldn't be multiple; I couldn't be more than one. It was bad. But hadn't I learned about Plurality? All its ups and downs? Its complexities and nuances? I accepted it wholeheartedly; I learned and evolved from the demonized perception I was given as a child. So, why was it still bad?

Because I must be lying; I must be a fake, a poser. It was the only reason, wasn't it? I had seen so many conversations and arguments about fakes, those who wished to be special. Had I somehow become the harm they spoke of? How could I do this to a community I swore to listen to and fight for?

I obsessed over it, forcing the panic, dissociation, habit, and ease of speaking in multiple identities and beings of myself away. I buried it as deep as I could for the betterment of everyone else. The community didn't deserve such harm, and I wouldn't bring it to their doorstep if I claimed it to be something I'm not.

The loathing became so present it formed into tics that caused aches and disruptions in my life. Multiple stressors--along with an identity crisis--will do that to someone. So my shoulder and neck muscles ached from shrugging, flexing, and all the repetitive movements I couldn't stop without crying from the suppression. So I didn't. I let it disrupt and hurt.

Then, one day, someone, some random, unknown system to me out in the world, spoke about how it didn't matter what was real or not; it didn't hurt anyone. Plurality and the belief of it didn't hurt anyone. It hurt no one to discover themselves, to test the waters, to simply pry into yourself and learn. There was no shame in figuring yourself, or yourselves, out. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be ashamed of or fearful of. Just another part of living.

So I did. I poked and prodded. I gave my parts names, spoke to them in the middle of the night, asked questions, got to know them, and learned we couldn't talk through words at first but could emotions and sensations. I realized I couldn't find where my Plurality started or where it ended, that we—oh god, we—the idea was so surreal but...comforting—were so combined, living without specific individuality outside of me that there was no separation in sight. Not that I could figure out. For so long, I believed everything was just me. Only me.

But now it was someone else, too. These things that made no sense, these things that felt out of place or special, unique, and ever-changing could be someone else.

Someone else.

The more I reflected, learned, applied, and prodded, the more things made sense. Until one day, I looked at my friends, held my breath, and spoke. Stated that it like it was a sin for me of all people to say.

I was plural.

No one blinked an eye. No one questioned it outside of boundaries and clarification. It wasn't surprising that their childhood friend was many. How surprising could it be when they used so many different names for different parts of themselves to express hard things?

It was astonishing.

And here we are, years and years later, grown and still learning, living, fighting, but more in touch with ourselves than ever before with so many more sys friends and aquatints. More experiences, a better understanding.

It's not shameful to learn, apply, and reflect. You take nothing from anyone but your time and open-minded exploration of the world and yourself(ves). There is no evil in being human, living life, phase or not. There is nothing wrong with you, any of you, for existing or living. You just are. I embrace you, I embrace us, and I embrace everything that comes with a life of many.

So, if you're struggling, just know you're not alone outside the body. We know, and so do many others. It's going to be okay; you'll find yourself in time. Don't rush it. There will always be time.

[milliebobbyflay]

paired with their often intimate and violent subject matter, i find the incidental way tamsyn muir frames women and their bodies throughout the locked tomb series to be refreshing bordering on radical

consider harrowhark; in the first book we see her as gideon sees her. she's a hideous ghoul with a flat ass and no tits, she's a delicate sopping wet beauty with a sharp face and angel bow lips, she's a triumphant and awe inspiring master necromancer screaming and fighting drenched in her own blood. the shape and condition of her body is allowed to take on meaning contextually based entirely on the situation and how gideon feels about their relationship in any given moment

she then spends the second book hobbling around with a sword twice her size, ripping apart her body to use as a weapon and passing out in her own vomit, struggling to eat and sleep – she and puts herself through absolute hell and never once thinks anything of it, and we're made to mourn this not as the desecration of a beautiful woman but as a manifestation of a human being's despair and self loathing, and we see this specifically contrasted against the care gideon tries to take when inhabiting her body during the last act

it's jarring, in nona, when we're suddenly made aware that her body could be perceived or valued as a commodity, when pyrrha is assumed to be nona's pimp. it feels strange and horrifying when we learn alecto's form was modeled for a doll, learn that she was given a woman's body as a display of ownership, an alternative to being consumed, and as we're processing this we watch gideon, paul, and ianthe, immediately setting aside their conflict in a desperate scramble to preserve harrow's body for no reason other than because it is harrow's and they love her

feminist fiction often focuses on women's relationship to a body which is valued more than the person within it – and that is a worthy experience to explore – but as a transsexual butch(ish) dyke, i have never really had the privilege of seeing my body as a precious commodity, never felt like it couldn't or shouldn't be a sight of violence and disgust, and as a result the locked tomb books have made me feel seen in a way that few other works of fiction have?

we as an audience are not made aware of how attractive any character would be outside of the context of our lesbian POV characters' perspectives, their relationship to patriarchal beauty standards is an utterly irrelevant detail we're never told and only occasionally glimpse through implication. the women in the locked tomb books are simply free to exist, to have experiences and feelings, to love and hate and grieve and suffer and die like anybody else, and to have those experiences reflected in their physical vessels

it's a perspective that's so fundamental and obvious that to praise muir for it for it feels almost patronizing, but i also think it's a huge part of what's made the series so resonant for so many queer women and i feel that that's worthy of highlighting and celebrating

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HCs: Ken meeting a Human!Fem!Reader who owns a ranch

Wanted to write something for this movie bc it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two days. So enjoy, lovelies! 

I’m taking requests for this movie so don’t be shy <3 

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

...........

After going back to the Real World to find a purpose for himself, Ken runs into you, a country girl who left the Mattel company to take care of your ranch.

You just stopped in the city to find new outfits..and instead found him rollerblading through the park, immediately recognizing him as a Ken.

You may not be in the company anymore but you just knew (especially with his vibrant outfit giving it away).

You two hit it off right away and eventually you go shopping together.

He gets a new cowboy outfit and is bashful when you pay for it (to which you reply that you..really didn’t have a choice in the matter, as he had no money).

He’s like “ohh that happened before when I was with Barbie..we got arrested for the second time that day :D”

You’re very concerned and decide that he should stick with you from now on (not that anyone at Mattel would ever care about a Ken running around to begin with...you just didn’t wanna have to bail him out of jail).

On the truck ride back to your home, you mentioned owning a ranch and Ken’s in a w e

You tell him more about it, and he’s so intrigued and can’t stop staring at you the entire time, especially as you go on about how a lot of women in your world are cowgirls and how they aren’t represented enough.

He bluntly states that he once believed “patriarchy” was all about the horses and you nearly laughed, but he seemed sad about it, so you assure him if he wanted to see horses, he made the right decision coming with you.

You introduce him to one of your favorite steeds and he’s SO overjoyed to actually see one in person. Like petting its mane and asking dozens of questions like an excited kid.

“Are you sure Barbieland didn’t have any horses of their own?”

“No, we just have the ones on sticks and our imaginations.” He pouts, mimicking the way he rode invisible horses with his hands. “But this? This is WAY cooler!!”

He tries mounting your horse, envisioning himself riding off into the sunset, free as a bird while shouting “yeehaw” at the top of his lungs-

Only for it to rear its head up and nearly stomp on his foot, with you having to calm it down as he snaps back to reality, looking utterly distraught and stressed over upsetting it.

“Alrighty. Ken. If you wanna ride a horse..the first step is earning its respect. Thought you would’ve learned about that in those books....but if you’ll let me, I’ll show you how to properly mount one. Luckily this one here’s accustomed to double riders.”

His face lights up and he listens to every instruction you give him, from placing the saddle on its back to climbing on, and finally how to control the direction he wants it to go.

For this one time, however, you take the reins and let him sit behind you, hugging you a bit too tightly for your liking, but you allow it as you show him around the rest of your ranch.

He just likes the closeness fr and you.

By the time the day’s over, your horse got better acquainted with Ken and let him ride around for a little while before you gotta put it in the stable for the night.

Before he could worry about where he was gonna go, you tell him he can stay with you as long as he wants.

He’s so happy he just,,,,breaks down ugly crying into your arms.

Though he quickly apologizes, admitting he’s still getting used to crying freely and being more emotional and-

“It’s okay, Ken.” You reassure him. “We need more guys like that around here who ain’t afraid to shed a tear or two.”

“Th-Thanks...Barbie told me it’s an amazing feeling. And honestly..it kinda is.”

After that small heart-to-heart talk, he gifts you his horseshoe necklace as a sign of his appreciation, that dopey grin returning to his face when you take it and wear it right away.

Yeah, you’ve only met each other for a day and he’s smitten the moment you started treated him as an equal. You let him have his own room, bed, wardrobe, etc. (and in time he'll have his own horse too).

All you ask is that he helps you manage the ranch, but at this point he’s willing to do anything for you now.

Finally, he realizes this was his dream all along.

One that Barbieland couldn't provide, but that was alright.

Patriarchy is overrated, anyways. This was all he wanted.

[radfemsiren]

🤍A basic rundown of my beliefs as a radical feminist 🤍

(I don’t represent every radical feminist, but these are usually the standard opinions you’ll find of many radfems. Hate or disagree with them, that’s fine! But know the truth of who I am and what I stand for beforehand)

- there are 2 sexes, the male sex is oppressing the female sex

- femicide, rape, child sex abuse, hijab laws, female genital mutilation, domestic labor, trafficking, war crimes, revenge porn, prostitution… women and girls around the world are being exploited, tortured, and killed because of this oppression, and it must end.

- female oppression is sex based oppression, meaning a woman can’t just identify out of her oppression (for example hijab laws)

- sex is biological and an immutable truth, gender is a social construct

- gender should be done away with because gender roles are male supremacist and result in women and girls being stereotyped, dehumanized, barred from education, safety, bodily autonomy, etc.

- defining women with anything other than biology is misogynistic and relies on stereotypes

- the biological differences between men and women must be acknowledged in order to effectively end patriarchal oppression

- radical feminism is getting to the root of female oppression (radical -> root)

- misandry is not real and is just an extension of misogyny (for example, “men are told not to cry!” Yes because women are seen as inferior and any trait associated with us is seen as degrading/emasculating for men. This is why there is no female equivalent to emasculation.)

- all current religions are patriarchal and made by men to exploit and control women

- access to abortion is a human right and should never be threatened, women are the creators of life and deserve to gatekeep it, as well as exercise full autonomy over our own bodies

- Using sexist gender roles to define yourself is giving these misogynistic stereotypes power (wearing makeup or dresses doesn’t make anyone less or more of a woman, this is misogyny)

- the beauty industry is patriarchal and exploits women, our bodies and our money

- sex work is not work, it’s always exploitation (consent can not be bought)

- the porn industry is patriarchal and relies on trafficking, coercion, and rape to function. It also conditions its watchers to be aroused by violence against women, and results in more real life consequences for women and girls

- women’s spaces and institutions must be protected. Women’s safety is more important than catering to male feelings

- marriage is a patriarchal institution made to exploit the domestic labor of women for her entire life

- BDSM/kink are patriarchal and only center the pleasure and well being of men.

- hookup culture is patriarchal and the risk to reward is not worth it for women to engage in it

- gender ideology is patriarchal and is a direct hindrance to female liberation (we can’t define ourselves or our oppressors, we can’t create spaces away from our oppressors, we can’t create laws and policy based on these definitions, people who are gender non conforming are pressured to alter their bodies to conform to a rigid standard and become lifelong medical patients, etc)

- choice feminism and liberal feminism caters to conforming to patriarchal standards and institutions, and refuses to examine why women make choices under patriarchy

- women of color face oppression on the axis of our sex and race, men of color only face oppression on the axis of their race

- non white patriarchal institutions must be criticized: a mullah is just as dangerous to the liberation of women as a pastor is

- women should decenter the men in their lives just as men have done with women. That means prioritizing us! Engaging in women’s media, art, stories, fostering female communities and support networks, uplifting and empowering their sisters around the world

- being a radical feminist means consistently taking radical action, big or small, we all can do it! Go support a female artist, go donate menstrual products to a shelter, go tell off a man when you see him making a woman uncomfortable. We all can make a difference!

…My feminism focuses on criticism of Islam and middle eastern patriarchy, but there are radfems with many focuses/passions… some in eco feminism, some on uplifting Romani women, black women, neurodivergent women, women with disabilities, prostituted women… some are passionate about women’s sports, women’s art, women’s writing, women’s history, lesbian and bisexual women’s stories… everyone has their passion on here, so before you come to attack, just check out my blog and click around at the different profiles on this corner of the internet…. maybe we might not be the terrible witches you thought us to be. Or maybe we are, but witches are awesome so who cares lol

[blackpilljesus]

Not everything needs to be announced, do not put a target on your back.

With the rise in popularity of things like 6b4t, 4b, decenter men, etc I'm seeing a lot of women bragging to maIes about it which will not help us. At the end of the day maIes do not care about our happiness, look at how they get off on womens abuse, they constantly seek to break women down at every twist and turn, they dont actually give a fuck about whether single childfree women are the happiest demographic out there. Maturing as a single childfree woman is realising that it's not just about hating maIes but being indifferent to them, not caring about their opinions at all. Only recognise them for the threat & parasites they are. I dont care to prove maIes wrong. This doesn't mean I ignore or hold positive sentiments to them, I just focus on centering myself and womankind in my life instead. I often see women bring up points about single childfree women & our happiness to maIes when maIes already know that.

Let's assume that maIes dont know that women are happier when we're single, why does it matter that they know just how much happier women are when they're single? Given the way maIes have treated women, do you really think maIes give a fuck about women being happy? Do you really think that if maIes didnt know how single childfree women felt before & when they find out how happy single childfree women are they'd be pleased about it? Or that they'd care?

For every single childfree woman is a maIe without a rape maid, a maIe without someone to pummel their legacy through, etc yk how it goes. MaIes are already feeling the effects of our freedom & they're starting to retaliate. In south korea female only parking spaces were replaced with family spaces, in the USA there's project2025 & how they want to coerce women back into the nuclear family unit, in the UK many sexual offenders are being released from prisons due to "overcrowding".

Back to my point on indifference, part of that is realising that all of this shit goes beyond witty one liners on the internet. MaIes are fully aware of everything they do and how they benefit from it. To the women who brag to maIes about 4B et al, what is the end goal here? Is it truly decentering maIes as claimed or is it some type of strategy to spook maIes into being good boys? Because I've seen women try to be threatening with it like "maIes need to get their act together or we they wont be chosen/we'll 4B!" and this is still maIe centric in a way. Sounds harsh but many womens tiktoks, tweets, of this nature tend to have maIe partners or are still looking anyways so it only makes things harder for those actually serious about this. I feel like many women believe at some point maIes would grovel back to them & 'apologise' for their actions and start being better like no; maIes have intentionally done everything through force & violence including wanting a partner & children. MaIes arent going to change nor will ever change on their own. MaIes dont just want parters or children, they want this at the expense of womens lives; our goals, our dreams, and our humanity so they sure as shit dont care about our happiness.

There is thing as centering maIes even in a negative way, I saw it described as "chaotic misandrist" on the pinkpill site. Many women talk about how they want nothing to do with maIes but then make it their entire personality. Many women on tiktok are using 4B as some titillating leverage over maIes or as some divine femininity woo woo femme fatale shit. All of that still centers maIes. What needs to be realised is that it's not all about maIes. I dont solely do this as a "fuck you" to maIes, will it be? Yes. But that is not my primary reason for not dating or reproducing. Dont make this a thing where you solely want to get back at maIes. MaIes dont negotiate so attempting to barter is a waste of time and tiptoes on maIe apologism because even if maIes apologised for all the things they've done I would still not forgive them. I would still want the worst for them. Ik in that situation most women would forgive them without a second thought.

Women saying "act right or else 4B" are saying this because they still want to make it work with maIes. If there's negotiation it means a connection still wants to be formed which misses the entire fucking point. It aint about maIes it's about yourself and womankind. This is why it's hard for me to trust other women because it wont take much for them to cave as has been throughout history. I dont care what moids think about all this, as I said my primary concern regarding maIes is the threat they pose. I dont care whether they'd ever change. Anyone serious about this wouldn't be dangling the prospects of not partnering with them in maIes faces especially bc part of what leads to this is realising that maIes are dangerous & there's no reforming them. Dangling this in their face is poking the bear and maIes have no limits as to how low they'll stoop to get what they want. They'd kill themselves to prove a point.

So for the love of goddess, stop bragging to maIes about this. Doesnt matter if they say you'll be a miserable cat lady like bet. Deep down we all know they need us more than we need them. This isn't to say to hide & be ashamed of it, but it wont do women favours exposing our play to our predators.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Heart Sutra ~ Buddha x Goddess! Reader

Gate gate para gate para sam gate bodhi swaha...

"Your pronunciation is getting better, Y/N." King Jataka laid on the grass, underneath a tree, watching the beautiful woman besides him create various models of flower crowns with her magic. "Really? You truly think so?" her charming smile seemed to radiate as bright and warm as the Sun itself. "Yes, I think so. A little more, and you can sing the Heart Sutra perfectly." Jataka found himself smiling also. "Ahh, you are being far too nice, 'Taka." she waved her hand dismissively, returning to her idle work. "Y/N, do you mind if I ask you something?" she hummed, encouraging him to continue. "You are a Goddess. Why have you been staying at my court, disguised as a Bodhisattva?" he asked, deep in thought. Y/N turned her head to look at him properly. "Why, you ask?" Y/N didn't have an immediate answer. "I suppose because it makes me happy." "Does it, really?" he murmured, intrigued. "I think so, yes." she smiled kindly. "Every time I see the smiles of people that I healed, my heart bursts with happiness, and I feel lighter. In this prospect, I suppose that yes, being here, among humans, and aiding them does make me happy." "You are always smiling." Jataka nodded his head, pensive. "You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen." "Jataka." she called out his name, placing the flower down and leaning back on the tree. "What is bothering you?" "Ahaha... Saw right through me, didn't you? No wonder you're a Goddess governing the nature, peace and serenity. Only someone pure and benevolent like yourself could understand my troubled heart." the King spoke softly. "I am nearing the end of my life, and through this, I have come to realise that although I have done my duty well, made my people happy and that my kingdom is flourishing... You see... I feel... Unfulfilled. I feel... Empty. Like there is something missing. I feel... Deep unrest and... Sadness. As though I am nostalgic over something that I have never had... And never will."

"Your reason for sadness is the very reason over which I took a leave of absence from home, up there." Y/N gently wrapped her arms around the King, placing his head on her lap. "There is no creature alive that can feel happiness over being controlled by a higher being. We blame destiny and duty, or even Gods for out sadness... But the truth is, Jataka... We are the masters of our own destiny, and only we have power over our own lives." Y/N looked away with a sarcastic smile. "If only that were entirely true, huh?" "Lavishing in all these material luxuries, being hidden away from any misfortune, I have been ignorant over what it meant to live." the man sighed deeply. "As I watched the starry skies one night, from the balcony, I realised how vast the skies are - And if the skies are endless, then so must the Earth be. I watched birds fly, unhindered by any restraint, and I realised that I was nothing more than a caged falcon, bound by a rope, never allowed to venture too far. Since my birth, I have been told that I must uphold my duties as a prince - As the future King - And I did everything as best as I could, out of filial love and duty for the people I am responsible for." Jataka felt a sense of relief, feeling the Goddess' hand gently caressing his silvery locks. "Do you think I am selfish, Y/N? For wishing for my own happiness, for once?" "No, Jataka. I do not think you are selfish. Truth is..." though Y/N smiled, it was bitter, and a tear escaped down her cheek. "I am just a little upset that you did not realise it until it was too late." a few more tears followed close behind, surprising the young King. "You are such a good man, Jataka. It always pains me, seeing young men and women like you, who have done only good in their life, and are repaid with only misfortune. I hate how unfair life can be, and I hate that I am unable of meddling with diseases that humans cannot conquer yet. If I were to keep every living being alive, forever, than it would only bring calamity and a disbalance of life." Jataka felt a pang of pain in his heart, realising the emotional woman before him cared so much for him and all the people she governed over - Despite all the births, deaths and rebirths that she's witnessed over the course of aeons, for as long as she has been alive - She still couldn't get over the suffering of loss. "But if I make an exception with you, then I would have to make an exception with everyone, as my heart wouldn't allow me to spare one over the other. A cruel fate, out of which I cannot escape. And you, Jataka, are correct, you are no different - A beautiful song bird, trapped in a golden cage, embellished with the most precious jewels, forced to sing the songs of the nobles, yet unable to break free and witness and experience the world in front of your eyes; Unable to spread your wings and feel the air brushing through your feathers."

Y/N felt two gentle hands cradling her face, wiping away her diamond beads of tears which created blooming flowers where they fell on the ground. Jataka smiled, and kissed her forehead. "Having your love means more to me than anything else in the world." he spoke in a soft voice which mellowed the Goddess' heart further into trembling with emotion. "Though I cannot live the life that I wished, nor live eternal in this mortal husk that my body is - I have a single wish, that only you may fulfill. It is the only thing that can bring me a little comfort. Can you promise me something, please?" "Of course. I will do anything." she placed her hands over his own, intertwining their fingers together. "Please, take care of Siddhartha for me. He is still young and naive, still fooled by the luxuries of the palace. He needs you, the same as I do. He is a good man. Please, care for him the same as you did for me." the two locked eyes, and their hearts came to a deep understanding. A vow was formed, for millennia to come. "I will."

Weeks passed by, and though Siddhartha had no clue that Y/N was actually a Goddess, he enjoyed his time spent with her and Jataka. Ever since she appeared at his Kingdom, quite a while ago, he felt that those two were kindred spirits, in ways that few could accomplish, as though they could understand each other simply through looks and smiles. Or maybe that's how mature adults think. One of the two, he wasn't quite sure. Either way, he often teased Jataka about taking her as one of his wives. He always got scolded when he did.

Y/N wasn't the most talkative, but he always appreciated her care for everyone, including him. All her kind words and sweet actions towards people made the young man want to spend more and more time with her.

At some point, he even came over to her, offering flowers - He had the most innocent, boyish grin - He was so adorable, really. Still, for some reason, Y/N only smiled sweetly at him, kissing his cheek and went away. Though he was flustered, he also felt... Rejected? Maybe his intentions weren't obvious enough? He wasn't quite sure - Not to mention, Jataka just laughed, but gave him no answer. Was he teasing him? Ha!

Jataka's time was nearing its end, and for the first time since they've known each other, Siddhartha was met with a confusing confession for his elder brother figure - The validity of his happiness. Was he happy, truly? Was the material world was the soul's fulfillment was? Or perhaps he was too shallow to realise... Or too inexperienced? Jataka said he realised how much he wanted to see the world and... Live. Alas, he couldn't, not only because of his illness, but because of his duties as a King, trapped in the comforting gold of his kingdom.

He panicked, seeing his older brother's bitter smile, looking into the horizon at the setting Sun, and he felt dread, watching the blood dripping down his hand as he continued to cough.

When the country went into deep mourning, he was shocked not to see Y/N anywhere. She must be glued to the coffin, no doubt. Everyone knew she was the closest person Jataka ever had. As Siddhartha rode towards the kingdom, he saw the people sobbing and weeping for their deceased King.

"The life I lived, who did it belong to, in the end?"

"Do you truly think I am a happy person?"

These questions rung through Siddhartha's mind, as soon as he heard that one assumption - "The king must have been truly happy."

But was he, really? Who's to say he was actually happy? The kingdom's prosperity? The people's well-being? No war, nor famine or plague in the lands he was governing?

At once, Siddhartha came to a revelation. He jumped off his horse, and weeping, he started cackling loudly, making people believe his grief drove him to madness.

As expected, as soon as he entered in the temple, he was met with sobbing people, lots of flowers, and a single woman glued to the King's coffin. Yes, Y/N loved flowers, and consequently, so did Jataka - Hence why Siddhartha gathered a whole basket of field flowers and strutted all the way to the coffin, throwing flowers around.

"Siddhartha...?" Y/N's sweet voice called out to him softly as she rose her crying face to look up at him. "You were right. I understand now, and I admit, you were right." he smiled at her. "I won't say it a second time though." "What are you talking about?" Siddhartha moved his gaze to Jataka, and offered a melancholic smile. "Hey, bro. You 'bout ready to go out of here?" with extraordinary strength, Siddhartha picked Y/N and placed her gingerly on his shoulder, as his other hand held Jataka's coffin. He was completely deaf to all the others yelling at him to stop his mad actions. "Piss off. Whatever Gods you're praying at today - My bro Jataka doesn't need their blessings. Because happiness... Comes from within."

Y/N gasped hearing his bold words - And she started crying. She was proud of him. Afternoon came, and the two knelt on the ground, gazing at the beautiful King amongst the flowers, having his coffin lowered onto the river sheen. "You are free, my friend. Now go and find your happiness yourself." they watched him disappear into the horizon, engulfed into the red rays of the beautiful Sun.

For the first time in the many years since they've known each other, Siddhartha witnessed Y/N offering him her undivided attention. As soon as the silhouette of the coffin was visible no more, she threw her arms around his torso and sobbed like a child. Siddharta smiled, moved that someone cared so much for his bro, and he held her smaller form into his embrace. "Why are you crying so much, you little crybaby? Don't you know - Suffering is only a concept bound to the material world. One day, when we enter Samsara, our souls will reunite with Bro's, and we will be friends again, in our next life - Again, and again, until we reach awakening and attain Nirvana." his words sounded so wise, unlike the childish beliefs of yester-year. "It is alright to upset, the wound is still fresh and ablaze. But Y/N - One should find happiness in remembering the beautiful memories guiding your future, rather than mourning the past." "I am so proud of you, Siddhartha." her words were nothing that he expected, and the young man was taken aback. "You are right. Yes, you are entirely right. If only that life was kinder to benevolent souls like yourself and Jataka." she continued vaguely.

Y/N rose her head to look up at him, a wide smile through her tears. "But, Siddhartha, you see - That truth only applies to mortals. As a Goddess, seeing beautiful souls die so young... Beautiful flowers withering all around you, as the garden you tended with so much love and care dies upon winter... It hurts every time, and no matter how many thousands of years pass, I cannot get over the suffering that loss has on me." Siddharta frowned slightly, confused at her statement. "Goddess, you say? Ha! That's funny." he grinned at her. "You see, I have just come to the realisation that I absolutely despise anything that tries to control my actions. I am a firm believer that we seam the tapestry of our own lives through the choices we make. Now I understand why Bro was so upset last time we met. You knew all this, didn't you, you little minx?" "Of course I did." she huffed lightly. "Siddhartha - Do you hate me for not saving Jataka? Now that you know my identity, you must be very upset that I just let him die." The young man let out an over-dramatic hum, placing his hand to his chin as if to mock thinking, before he popped out a negative answer. At least he retained his childish vitality. "What are you Goddess over, anyway? You healed people. Goddess of Life or what?" "Nature, Peace and Serenity." Siddhartha let out a sound of understanding. "No wonder I and Bro felt so good around you! It's like everything was good around you!" he cackled weirdly. "Must be hard on you, huh?" his theatrical expression turned more gentle and kind. "Having to take care of so many things at once. You know, my wife told me once that she can feel what our child feels. I'm not sure how it works, but it must be similar with you and everything you create right?" Y/N nodded her head, albeit, bewildered at the accurate comparison that he figured out on the spot. "Having to feel the emotion of every living being must be a huge pain in the ass." Y/N giggled in amusement. "I love and care for every living being, Siddhartha. It is like a gardener tending to a flower garden. Every human, every animal, every tree. Everything has life, and their vitality, their energy surges through my veins." she explained, taking a step back. She rose her hands up to take his hair away from his tail, letting it swish with the wind. His hair was so long, that it matches her own. "You dig in the dirt with your own fingers, and you bury the seed of life. Every morning, every afternoon and night, you tend to this seed, and care for it - You water it and fertilize it, protect it from parasites and the harsher weathers. When it comes up from under the first, you see the cutest, littlest sprout, braving to live and grow more. You watch it get bigger, and stronger over the course of many days, until finally, it reaches maturity, and it blossoms into the most beautiful flower." she smiled widely, creating a gorgeous flower crown, which she placed on his head. "But once it reaches maturity, the risk of illness increases. It matures until it grows old. You watch it lose its vibrant colours, the petals fall off one by one, until only a frail stem remains, falling from the faintest breeze, until finally, the roots rot, and the flower is no more." Siddhartha's grim comment about life made Y/N's beautiful gem-like eyes gleam with emotion. "So is life, yes." despite being overwhelmed with emotion, Y/N continued to speak. "Out of all my flowers - Siddhartha, you are my most beautiful lotus flower, and I am most proud of you." the young man blushed in surprised. "Creating humans, creating life - It is the effort of the collective of Gods, not mine alone; But creating, and caring for, is different. I may not be able to look over every living being in this large, large world, but I am most honoured that I was able to meet you and see you grow into such a wise young man."

At once, Siddhartha pulled Y/N into a tight hug, swinging her around enthusiastically. "Awwww, you're the sweetest! You're making me blush!" Y/N was quickly beginning to get dizzy from all the twirling and swinging around from the awfully strong prince. "What did you promise Bro?" "Oh? You knew about that?" Y/N chuckled softly, trying to regain her balance. "I promised that I would take care of you, the same way I did for him." Siddharta grinned widely. "Nope!" Y/N looked at him, a little confused. "I've got a better idea, actually." he brought Y/N at arm's length, his hands placed firmly on her shoulders. "You knew I liked you, didn't you?" Y/N nodded her head. "But a mortal doesn't live long enough, so they can't hang around an immortal, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered towards the river, before nodding again. "Welp, I've got an idea!" his dazzling smile was more charming than any God. "You see, I want to go on a pilgrimage, all by myself. I want to find myself, and my own happiness. I want to find my purpose. I need to do this alone - Though don't worry, if I am to encounter a like-minded friend, then we will travel together." he spoke. "Will you wait for my return, Y/N? Until I reach my Enlightenment and become an iteration of myself with which I can be proud of?" Y/N smiled dearly at the young man, glowing like the morning Sun. "I will wait for you for as many cycles it takes you to find me again. I hope that, by the time you return, you will have achieved true happiness, and I can see your beautiful smile again. Siddhartha."

The young man smiled brightly before pulling Y/N into a sweet kiss. "Something to look forward to." he gave her a peace sign before walking away. "See ya, Y/N! Laters!" "Have a safe journey, you little troublemaker." Y/N smiled dearly, waving at him. Though life as a God was long and tedious, and relationships were shallow, she felt a pure love like she's never experienced before. Whether she sees the young man again or not, she knew he was going to be just fine.

Since then, Y/N returned to the Gods, continuing her boring life, watching over the nature of Earth from above. Life truly wasn't all that exciting for deities living so long, but once in a while, something big happens - Big enough for the whole foundation of Valhalla to shake to the core.

If a human becoming a demi-God wasn't exceptional enough, considering the bravery and righteousness that Heracles displayed; A man had somehow attained supreme spiritual awakening, and ascended to the title of Buddha the Enlightened, the Wise. A human achieved Godhood.

Siddhartha Gautama

As soon as he saw the Goddess, completely frozen from shock of seeing him in Heavens, he let out a childish squeal and leapt on her, rubbing his cheek on her face as though he's a kitten or something. He told her how much he missed her and what not - Surprise! He even had his own brand of delicious lollipops to share with her! And lots and lots of chocolate too! Oh, and they had so much to catch up!

He told Y/N all about his journey and the people he met, those he guided on their path to achieving happiness, and all the sightseeing he did. Best of all, he reminisced all the awakening he did over the years - And how much he missed her! Haha, a joke - He is always determined to get what he wants, so of course, he was patient. Craving would only bring him suffering, thus the knowledge of knowing the Goddess was there, waiting for him, soothed his worried into a calm peace of mind.

Siddhartha - Now, Buddha - Still felt so giddy, being called by his name. Only Y/N could call him that, of course! No one else had that privilege. The more she spoke his name, the happier he was. Buddha ended up playfully pinning Y/N to the bed, kissing all over her face and tickling her, feeling his heart lighter with every sweet giggle she let. When she couldn't take the tickling anymore, the Goddess wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush against her chest; She took off his hair tie once again, and the pretty crown-like accessory holding it in a lotus-like style, and she caressed his locks soothingly. "I missed you." three simple words, yet they had the strongest effect on him. He felt compelled to engulf her in his strong arms, cuddling together, two hearts soulbound for an eternity of spiritual happiness.

Many, many years passed, and Buddha and Y/N were inseparable. Gods may argue, and so do humans, but never once did anyone even see them disagree on anything, let alone argue. Was it the endless patience and compassion of the Buddha, or that Y/N was always too kind to say anything that might upset someone, and detested confrontation; She'd rather walk away, or smile, instead of disagreeing with anyone.

That was their biggest similarity, but also, their biggest difference - Buddha was never one to back away from a fight against someone he couldn't stand - In his case, most of the Gods. Ironic, isn't it, he told Y/N so many times; How one can detest the very being they became, with the same strength that they love another just as much. He was a God who hated Gods, yet a God, who loved a Goddess as much as he loved the happiness and freedom he achieved.

"You have to find your own happiness within you." he told her once, watching Y/N dancing around the forest. Everywhere she stepped, flowers grew. "That may be so, Siddhartha - But my happiness increases whenever I see you." she bent to his side, grabbing his wrists and pulling him up to dance with her. Though all kinds of flowers bloomed wherever she stepped, hence why she always walked with no shoes on; Where Buddha stepped, beautiful white lilies grew. Together, they created endless flower gardens, more ethereal than any other God could make.

One would think eternal bliss was in store for them - Alas, one so connected to Nature as Y/N, was bound to suffer greatly, to the hands of the mankind she cherished so much. Buddha often saw how Y/N would try to sneak away into the forests, all alone. Though he hadn't seen her, he could sense her distress, her agony. After the third time that she refused to confide in him, preferring to keep the problem hidden, the newly Awaken God decided to confront her himself.

Instead, once he arrived at the edge of the forest, he found Y/N collapsed on the grass, writhing in pain. Panicked, he fell to his knees, cradling her in his arms, calling out her name; She seemed feverish and weak, but Gods couldn't contract illnesses, could they? Surely, they can't. He held her tight in her embrace, wishering the Heart Sutra in her ear over and over again, until finally, her breathing evened out, and the pain subsided.

"Pfeww, don't scare me like that, gorgeous! You're going to give me a heart attack!" he collapsed on his back dramatically. "Forgive me... I didn't want you to see me like this." Y/N sighed, rolling on the grass next to him. "I did not want you to see me cursing the humanity that I loved so much." "Humanity caused you this pain? What do you mean?" he turned to his side, his blue water lily eyes widening. "Take a look for yourself." she guided him to the edge of the floating forest. "Look there - They are at war. Countless people are dying all at once, the grass is drowning in blood, the animals are perishing." she sighed softly, before pointing to the opposite side. "And there - The deforestation, the excessive hunting - That whole hill is bare of life and decrepit, all so that humans may build and build and build some more." "Ahh, I see, so I was more right than I realised, though to think it would affect you to the point of being physically ill. My poor, poor baby Y/N!" he threw his arms around her, rolling on the grass with her dramatically. There was nothing that he could do to save her from this - It was the course that humanity took for itself, but perhaps there might be a way to somehow detach her, even by a little bit, from her connection with that which was created. Perhaps, that-a-way, the suffering may subside. Until then, however, he can only distract her with his love and playfulness. It was working wonders.

For thousands of years, humanity existed, with the will of the Gods, until that will was no more. Even Aphrodite herself, disgusted with the state of the world, agreed to decimate mankind. Shocked with the outcome, Y/N was the first to step forward and protest. Though she couldn't see Buddha looking at her, she could feel his presence and his lingering gaze. She wanted to fight for the mankind that destroyed her from within. None of the actions of humanity were directly affecting either of the Gods, except for her for the most part. She was the only one with the validity of voting, and if she wanted mankind to continue living, she had every right to vouch for them.

But they didn't care for her opinions - Instead, they laughed, saying her pain will disappear along with the humans, and she can achieve serendipity. How ridiculous. Thankfully, Brunhilde's plan of inducing Ragnarok worked, and thus, the thirteen fights were to take place.

Worried, Y/N quickly rushed out of the conference room, needing some time alone to regain herself. She was panicking and afraid. True, eliminating the humans was bound to relieve her heart of suffering - But at what cost? There were so many good people, innocent people out there, who did nothing wrong. Why should they perish, for the mistakes of others? Like how Adam and Even were cast away from Heaven, due to the disgusting lies and deceit of the Snake, so will billions and billions of other people suffer eternal Doomsday.

It wasn't fair.

A mother doesn't kill their own child for misbehaving. The Gods were being as selfish as always.

"N'aww, sweet-cheeks, don't tell me you're crying again! You know it breaks my heart seeing you like this!" though Buddha wasn't expecting to be pinned to the wall, Y/N's fingers digging deep into his shoulders. "We can't let them die, Siddhartha! We can't! They are innocent!" Y/N cried out, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Please, don't tell me you're on their side! We can't - We can't let them die! But what can we do? We are so few, against so many of them - And they're all so unreasonable and short-sighted." Buddha felt pain in his heart, listening to the distress of her voice, seeing the glimmering of her eyes. "I know! I'll... I'll fight for mankind! I... I've never fought in my life... But I am the Goddess of Peace. To know Peace is to know War; and to know War, is to know Peace. One must protect that which he holds dear. That's right, isn't it?" "Y/N." he called out in a gentle, calm voice. "Please, calm down." "Siddhartha...?" she found herself calling out his name. "You and I - We are soulbound, aren't we? We want the same thing. And you, more than anyone else in this world, know how much I hate being told what to do." he pulled her into a deep kiss. "And I'll be damned before I allow anyone to make you cry." Her distressed look turned into a content smile of relief, and she snuggled into his arms. "I love you so much." those words never failed to make his heart leap with joy.

Once Ragnarok began, Heimdall would call out the champions of the Gods, while Y/N would call the Mankind warriors to come over. It was the least she could do, apart from encouraging each of the fighters.

Mankind had a staggering two consecutive losses, and each time, Y/N took the short pause between matches to weep and regain herself. Staying in the ring for the duration of the fight, she used her magical powers to create a strong shield for the audience, so that none of the match-attacks would mistakenly harm anyone watching.

She felt sad yet emboldened seeing Lu Bu's tragic death, but also, his horse and brothers in arms asking for death, to be reunited in Niflheim with their General. She saw Thor smile for the first time in his life, after having fought with all of his mind against an honorable and strong member of mankind. Likewise, her heart shattered watching Adam's conviction is protecting his children from perdition, the very same she wished.

Thankfully, the great Sasaki was able to slash to death none other than Poseidon himself; Though not the most agreeable person, she still felt sad to see him gone forever. Alas. Y/N hugged the old man, thanking him for his resilience and strength before picking him up and bringing him to the infirmary.

The same happened with Jack the Ripper, a man despised by all mankind and humanity for being the scum of the earth. Y/N knew better - She knew all of their lives. In truth, though she disagreed with his actions, she pitied Jack, the poor man. He truly was a pitiable one. Unlike Poseidon, Heracles was wept by all, Gods and humans alike, whilst Jack got ostracised, ridiculed and insulted, even having stones thrown at him, despite already being injured. That angered Y/N.

"How dare you speak ill of the man who put his life on the line for humanity to keep living?! He has no descendants, he has no family - He fought for humanity, though he had nothing to gain out of it! He got the recognition of Heracles himself, and tied the score against the Gods with his shrewdness and wit - And yet you dare talk down to him? I don't see you in here, facing the wrath of the Gods who want you dead!" Buddha felt himself cackling from the stand, watching the Goddess pick up a grown man like he was a bride and actively healing him with love and care like none other before. What a darling she always was.

Unfortunately, Mankind lost the 5th match, with poor Raiden dying against Shiva, the God of Destruction. Still, the only good thing coming out of all the matches was that Y/N could sense the fighting Gods getting genuine admiration for the strength, selflessness and righteousness of humanity, beginning with Thor calling Lu Bu his friend, Zeus acknowledging Adam's strength in protecting his kin, Sasaki defeating Poseidon himself, Heracles loving humanity and Jack himself, and Shiva admiring Raiden's power.

And thus, the sixth match was to take place. The doors opened, and two rows of seven pink water lilies appeared - The familiar silhouette of Buddha appeared. Y/N looked at his unbothered face, blowing up bubblegum, his weapon lazily swung over his shoulder. He was smirking, winking at Y/N mischievously, reveling in the spotlight before he stepped by the Goddess' side and pulled her over into his side as he got to where the human representative was to stand.

He spit his gum in Heimdall's hand, snatching away his Gjallarhorn. "Excuse me. Testing. Testing." he spoke into the horn. "Uhhh... I'm gonna fight for Mankind. Ya dig?" the whole arena was in ecstasy. Numerous comments were thrown around, denigrating Buddha as he shattered the horn in his grasp. "Piss off." he pointed with his weapon towards Zeus. "Y'all made my girl cry. Screw you. If the Gods aren't going to save mankind, then I will. And if any God gets in my way..." he slammed the butt of the weapon into the ground, his expression now serious and devoid of any joy. "I'll kill 'em."

He truly is the kind not to take orders from anyone. Though Heimdall tried to press on that he can't switch sides, Zeus himself approved anyway. "Are you prepared to make enemies with all of the Gods?" "Dang, you're such a pain!" Buddha scoffed at Odin, pulling Y/N even closer to his side. "Remember what I said before? Whether you're allies or enemies, good or evil, Gods or Humans, none of that matters!" Buddha was glowing brightly with intense confidence. "In all universe, nothing else matters, except me!"

Such a narcissistic comment, added to the intense frustration of the Gods, made Y/N burst into laughter along with him. Two weirdos. "So, who am I fighting?"

The Seven Fortunes stepped into the arena and fused into a single deity. Vaisravana was no more, and instead, one called Zerofuku appeared. The Eight Gods of Fortune were actually a single entity. This Zerofuku guy was a real weirdo, even for their standards, and he confessed his intense wish to slaughter Buddha with all of his might, as he created his sinister weapons which got bigger and bigger the more misfortune he encountered.

Though Y/N didn't know of Zerofuku's past, he knew Buddha. He was able to take the misfortune of the humans into his own body, until he couldn't any more, only to receive discontempt and realise that those he tried to help were in no way less misfortunate than before. Material luxury and sinful indulgences did nothing to appease the soul. Instead, Zerofuku had to witness strings of people following Buddha in his path to Enlightenment. He got jealous, unable to understand his teachings - Yet somehow, no matter how cryptic or enigmatic Zerofuku found Buddha's words, the other people - Including those whom he helped previously - Began following the Awakened One close behind.

The more Zero attacked, the bigger his weapon grew, for Buddha could see the flickers of his soul and evade all the hits before they even happened. He was even taunting the God, intentionally or not, driving him into a mad frenzy. The few attacks that Buddha threw all landed with tremendous effect, earning cheers and applause from the audience.

Though he couldn't see Y/N reaction, Buddha was sure she was a worrying mess - That's her caring nature, after all - Yet seeing Zero's weapon growing as large as the whole arena, and him not moving from his spot, well - He feared she might be fainting on the spot, like a poor damsel in distress. Well, he'll just have to sweep her off her feet and protect her like the chevalier of light that he is!

Y/N knew, in theory, that Buddha's weapon transformed in each of the Six Paths identities depending on his emotions, and with his being a master at controlling his moods, he could form anything at will, more or less, so she wasn't all that surprised when the weapon transformed into a Shield to block the huge weapon. Still, she almost wished she could see all of the Paths.

Next, he used the Spiked Club of Nirvana, trembling to charge in an attack - And so he did, sweeping to the ground and causing lethal damage on the demon's side. The demon's weapon turned into two swords, to which Buddha made his weapon turn into a large halbert, easily countering every one of Zero's attacks. His misfortune was increasing, and his weapon turned into a multitude of hooks acting like snakes - He retaliated with a Vajra, running around and cutting them away to bits.

"Love yourself!" Buddha encouraged the poor demon. "I actually like you quite a lot, Zerofuku." that comment made the misfortunate one start sobbing and staring at the graceful God, shining brighter than the golden Sun. Zero's anger subsided and he finally understood who he really is, and what he wants from life. His weapon disappeared, and Buddha also threw his own to the ground, proposing an outright fist-fight. What a child, Y/N giggled, watching that playful smirk on his face as he intentionally allowed the pitiable demon to strike him back. Y/N could never image ever letting herself feel physical hurt just for fun - Alas, men were weird, and Buddha especially, was one of a kind.

Zerofuku was on the ground, sprawled, with all his misfortune and anger seeping out of his in a cloud. His purple hair turned pure white, and his blissful grin, that childlike innocence and glee were sparkling in his eyes. Buddha, also, was happy to have helped another worthy person achieve spiritual happiness - Until the horns on either side of his skull penetrated deep into his brain, worming their way inside his body. Zerofuku was engulfed by two dragons, one blue and one red. Buddha could do nothing to safe his new friend. Instead, he was forced to watch Zero disappearing, and a true evil appearing in his stead.

The Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, Papiyas, was reborn.

Buddha immediately leapt back, afraid for the first time, for there was a creature of pure darkness, whom he couldn't read. He hadn't an inkling of brightness in his soul which he could read. Y/N, like everyone else, was trembling from the sheer malevolence of the demon. Terrifying, Y/N ran in front of Buddha, standing protectively in front of him - She knew, if need be, her defense magic was second to none in Valhalla.

There goes this legend about a terrifying foe from Helheim - Hades told her this story once, dating before he was ruled of the Underworld - That this enemy destroyed half of the realm... Or rather, it was lucky enough that even half of it was left intact, to some degree.

Once Papiyas turned his arm into a weapon, Y/N summoned her polearm into her grasp, parrying the attack. The Gods all gasped - It has been thousands of years since they've seen the Goddess of Peace fight. In truth, it was only during the Titanomachy that she fought - To protect her Peace, one must go to War. It was an irony that she had to accept as a true axioma.

"H-Hey, Y/N, it's not your fight! Two people can't fight for a single side!" she heard Heimdall's shaky voice call out. "To hell with your rules, Heimdall! If this freak doesn't die, we're all screwed!" Y/N growled, struggling to push him back, counter and block all of his strikes that came at the speed of lightning. "If Zeus accepted the intervention of the Valkyries for all the other fights, then for goodness' sake, there's hardly any difference, is there?!" "I SHALL ALLOW IT!" Zeus' amused voice called out from the stands, as Y/N leapt back, just a step in front of Buddha. She was breathing heavily from the effort. "Siddhartha, stand back." her overprotectiveness was taking over her senses. "I will fight with my fullest power." Papiyas glared at the two. "THAT WAS YOU HOLDING BACK?!" Y/N cried out at him. "Gosh... Buddha, come over." quickly, Y/N placed a few flowers in his hair. "This will protect you from harm... I hope." she muttered the last bit, watching as Papiyas was preparing a drill-like strike called the Pandaemonium Cycle. Before she could react, Buddha dragged Y/N behind him, pulling his shield up - But the drill was capable of penetrating through it, gouging his left eye out.

"S...Siddhartha...?!" Y/N started, shuddering in distress at her lover's injury. He protected her, while he got his eye drilled into mush. "Don't worry about me, worry about that monster!" Buddha transformed his weapon into the sword away, engaging in an exchange of slashes that barely left a scar on the demon's neck. Buddha had to make adjustments to his attacks, because of his blindspot. fighting with one eye only as he was gradually being whittled down.

"Judgement." Papiyas smirked, impaling Buddha's foot, urging him to leap back once again. Y/N couldn't believe there were idiot Gods out there, begging for Buddha's death - Idiots. The Demon King pointed out Zerofuku was no more - He ate him - Shocking both Buddha and Y/N. What a monster, they thought, and the Enlightened one was feeling even more angered, enough to curse at him. "I've made up my mind. I'm gonna KILL YOU!" Y/N, nor anyone else, ever saw Buddha's wrath. Hopefully, it will serve him and humanity well. His staff transformed into the Hatred Emotion which created a weapon he's never seen before, the Warscythe of Salakaya, which had a menacing head of a roaring lion on it. "Preposterous." Papiyas spat. "For a piece of trash such as you, to defy a supreme being like me... I will waste no time passing judgement! And nothing could be more pleasant than that!" his laugh roared through the whole arena. "Stick that judgement up your ass, you sick fuck!" the audience gasped with the curse of the Goddess as Buddha attacked first with his blade, before unleashing an infernal fire towards the demon.

Blood spilled to the ground, though Buddha was the most confused of all. He was the one who initiated the attack, and it was his blade that cut away at Papiyas' arm. It was him who was supposed to get impaled by the enemy's weapon - So why the hell was Y/N standing before him like a meat shield, while he was unscathed?! "Y/N...?" his single remaining eye was wide with shock, staring at the blood splattering to the ground, and the soft tremble of her body. "The flower protected you." Y/N smiled weakly. "That is my happiness in life. Caring for those I hold dear to my heart." she giggled softly. "How pathetic. Any last words?" Papiyas grunted menacingly. "The whole world shall freeze over before I allow a pathetic little shit like you hurt my children. You, and all the Gods that oppose us - All who wish for mankind's erasure - I will fucking burn you all to death until there's nothing left of you to commemorate your wretched existence." Y/N smirked, grabbing Papiyas' arm and forcing herself through the weapon, sticking her own blade into his shoulder. That pissed the demon enough to kick her into the God behind her, toppling them to the ground. "Never do that again!" Buddha briefly scolded her. "Sorry, love, but I will do that, for as many times as my body keeps holding me. I am not strong, but I am resilient. It is you who can kill him, not me. If you are alive, we can win this. Together." Buddha got up, glaring angrily at the demon. "You have twice more, Siddhartha. That is my limit. After that, you're on your own. Use my power wisely." Buddha understood the implication well enough without any explanation - If he gets careless again, Y/N will die, protecting him. Similar to the story of the Moon Rabbit, so is she; Whilst the monkey, the fox and the bird gathered fruit, mean and nuts for the traveler to eat, the rabbit, knowing it could only gather some grass, threw itself into the fire for the man to eat him. Moved by the selflessness of the rabbit, the traveler, who was actually Sakra himself, made it so that the fire did not burn the rabbit, and instead, created the moon in its liking, and the fumes that would have burnt it, the fog surrounding it.

Still, Siddhartha did NOT want to see Y/N actually killing herself like that; Though an admirable and selfless act, he did not want to mourn her, the way he did Jataka long ago. He had to win. He MUST win.

"You're weak. Way weaker than Zero." Buddha taunted the Demon King into attacking him, and he parried all of his hits for as long as he could, before getting kicked away again. His continuing of the mocking caused the Demon King such rage, that he managed to find the perfect opening through his attack, impaling him again - Only, it wasn't him, but Y/N, much to Buddha's dismay. "Damn it, Y/N! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" he wanted to destroy the last flower in his hair, but he didn't have the strength. "One last chance, Siddhartha. Don't waste it." Y/N felt so weak as she got thrown away to the other side of the arena, rolling to the ground like a used ragdoll. "Y/N!" she heard her lover called out, afraid for her life - But as long as the flower of life was pulsating energy within him, he was reassured she was still alive and continuing to actively heal him.

Buddha continued his plan of mocking the enemy, causing him uncharacteristic fright, to the point that he tore off his arm to create a mighty weapon.

Buddha attacked again, though surprisingly, the blade of his Scythe got cut off and shattered to the ground. "Seriously...?!" he gasped, not having expected his Divine Treasure to break, of all things. He tried to defend with his staff, but that, too, broke, sending him away. He was sent to the ground, crashing down with such force that he couldn't move. "SIDDHARTHA!" Y/N cried, crawling to his side and holding him in her arms. She tried desperately to heal him, but he was unconscious, thus nothing she could do. As Papiyas was menacingly approaching, Y/N used her weapon to hoist herself up, creating a shield to protect the two until he woke up.

Thankfully, Buddha achieved enlightenment once again, and he got up, holding Zerofuku's old weapon. The crown holding his hair together shattered, and his gorgeous hair was shown for all to see. "Thank you, Y/N, Zero. Let's fight together, yes?" Y/N smiled sweetly, seeing him confident once again. "Yeah. Let's." despite her bloodloss, Y/N smiled, preparing her weapon. "Samavadhana Volundr!" Buddha and Zero together created a Divine Weapon that only Buddha could attaint through sublime enlightenment. A gorgeous and strong weapon, containing the strength and feelings of all the Gods of Fortune.

Ready to fight, Buddha kept up perfectly with the Demon King, parrying all of his attacks as strong as never before - And he was grinning, confident and self assured, even managing to inflict massive damage, at the cost of some minor injuries on himself. Still, he had to finish things fast, before either he or Y/N perish. He managed to slash away perfectly at his chest one again, though it wasn't as deep as he'd have liked. The climax was approaching fast. Y/N stepped by his side, holding his hand to transfer the last bit of energy into him, so he could keep going - At this rate, he'd only get more injuries, so at least he must keep his vitality and strength, for as long as it lasts. The one sided exchange of life that only Y/N could gift to another.

No matter how Papiyas continued to attack, Buddha was so fast and accurate that no more hit grazed him. The last ultimate attack of the Demon King - All thought landed, but instead, it was a clone, crumbling in an array of petals. Y/N grinned impishly, pointing behind him, as Buddha was ready to kill the foe.

Just as he turned, the last thing Papiyas saw was Buddha's Godly form, perfect beyond boundaries existent to Godhood, and the sword of light, love and compassion shined bright through the dark arena, slicing down the Demon King in two or three. different parts. It didn't matter that Papiyas tried to attack again, for Y/N slapped his hand away, watching as Niflheim was crumbling him to dust.

Somewhere in the sky, the light of heaven showed the happy soul of Zerofuku and the other Seven Gods of Fortune, ascending to Nirvana - Together, in friendship. Buddha couldn't contain his tears of glee, as he brought Y/N into his side, holding the sword dearly into his grasp. Everyone was chanting Buddha's name as he reveled in his win. The sword disappeared, but a bird that loved Zero sat on it, weeping for the loss of its benefactor.

Barely able to stand up, Buddha used all of his strength to drag Y/N out of the arena - Somehow, he was rather sure she was in a far worse shape than he was, having taken two direct hits like that. Not only that, but the refreshing feeling of the gentle caress that Y/N's energy felt, healing him, was keeping him very much alive and giddy. "You were so cool, Y/N. I didn't know you could do all that." Y/N smiled enigmatically. "They say true strength can be found when protecting that which is dearest to you. The truth is, Siddhartha, that I love you more than anything else is this world. You make me the happiest I've ever been." "Ha! Hear you, all sappy and sweet! Y'know you're gonna make me melt!" he cackled, pulling her into a gentle kiss, afraid of causing her more pain. "Let's get all better and continue rooting for humanity, yes? We've done all we could. The rest is their burden to bear - And I think they've done a pretty damn good job so far, don't you think?" "Hella." when she lost strength in her legs, Buddha immediately reacted, picking her up and cradling her in his arms like a princess. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you did that intentionally." he teased her, kissing her forehead. "If most of my blood was inside of me, and not out in the arena, it would have been intentional." she smirked back at him just as comically.

After getting the much required medical care, they continued watching the matches from the comfort of their chamber, laying on the comfortable, fluffy bed, cuddled in each other's arms. Y/N had tied his hair up again, and instead of his golden crown, she replaced it with one made of flowers. He, in return, caressed her hair until she relaxed completely, singing softly the Heart Sutra for her, for as long as it took for her to achieve a much needed peace.

All things are empty: Nothing is born, nothing dies, Nothing is pure, nothing is stained, Nothing increases and nothing decreases. So, in emptiness, there is no body, No feeling, no thought, No will, no consciousness.

There are no eyes, no ears, No nose, no tongue, No body, no mind. There is no seeing, no hearing, No smelling, no tasting, No touching, no imagining. There is nothing seen, nor heard, Nor smelled, nor tasted, Nor touched, nor imagined.

[haggishlyhagging]

Waiting is part of the stereotyped role for women—a large part. Waiting to grow, for breasts and hips to fill out, to wear lipstick, perfume, brassieres: waiting to star in the big role—man enticer. Waiting to be asked for a date. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting, waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting to be asked to dance. Waiting to be asked to go steady. Waiting to be asked to marry. Always waiting for someone else to act. Passively, miserably waiting.

And if the phone doesn't ring? If no one asks? If you wait, and wait, and wait, and Prince Charming doesn't come riding up? What can you do?

In the fifties, when I was a young woman, there was nothing you could do and still be considered decent. Being able to choose and act on that choice was a privilege reserved for men. That should have told me something. I think it did, but I didn't want—or didn't know how—to deal with it at the time. So I put it away in that deep unconscious filing cabinet reserved for matters which must have frightened me with their too-clear implications of female servitude and subordination. It took me forty-two years of gathering such data unbeknownst to myself before I finally accumulated more than my file could hold and it burst open, forcing me to look.

Waiting is one of the earmarks of subservience. As Milton truly says, "They also serve who only stand and wait." Waiting is a service. The words waitress, lady-in-waiting, waiter are all service titles. Waiting delineates rank. Sergeants don't keep colonels waiting, but generals do. Teachers don't keep principals waiting, but superintendents do. Those in power can make their subordinates wait, can expect them to wait. To keep someone waiting is manipulation, a method of maintaining control; it is a way of announcing and wielding power.

My unconscious servitude to Rick began early in our courtship. I remember sitting on a bench by the service station for several hours while he fixed his car. It was an unspoken assumption in my youth that girls loved to keep boys company during such times, liked to hold things for them, enjoyed watching them clean the points, or change the brake shoes. Having their girl hovering around must have been like having their own private cheerleader. Girls did it because we wanted to be with them more than they wanted to be with us. We were more emotionally dependent upon them, as we had been trained to be. We needed to be around them, and though they liked having us around, they had other interests in their lives. We had been trained to have only one major interest, despite all the other things we might do, and that was them. Not because it is any more natural for us females to be dependent and to base our entire lives upon some male's approval and presence, but because patriarchy socialized us thus. It is great for male egos. It is catastrophic for ours.

But I didn't get a real taste of the despotism of waiting until Rick discovered the computer at the University of Minnesota. The next ten years were one long struggle against the humiliation of being constantly rejected for the computer—Rick's "iron mistress," his "three sexty." Ten years of being completely forgotten for whole days and suddenly remembered apologetically, of my putting the uneaten supper away and going to bed at midnight or one or two A.M., not having heard from Rick since morning when he promised to be home by six.

That he should have thought it natural to keep a human being waiting for six, seven, twelve hours without word made it clear to me again and again how he thought of me, how not completely human I was to him, how much just a part of himself—not a separate or real person to be taken seriously, or about whose esteem he needed to worry. He would never have kept any male friend whose friendship he valued waiting so consistently for years. No peer would have put up with it.

At the time, I thought it was all my fault. If I were more interesting, more sexy, more something, he would want to come home to me. I blamed myself, when the fault lay in Rick's patriarchal world view.

Part of the unwritten definition of wife is: the one who waits.

I tried to tell Rick over those long years how often I felt rejected and figuratively slapped in the face. I couldn't help but believe he secretly enjoyed the idea of my waiting for him, the constant service of wondering and worrying about him in his absence. Surely there was something more behind his making me wait than mere forgetfulness. He was an extremely intelligent man, but I couldn't get him to understand how deeply he wounded me by showing disdain for the hours of my life I wasted in waiting for him and for the hurt and rage and erosion of love for him this brought about in my heart.

And through it all, I must never make him wait for me. I must never reverse the sadomasochistic game. Yet by calling it that, I admit my own collusion in it. Years ago I should have ceased to care unduly when he came or went, should have planned my life as I wanted without consulting his. Should simply not have allowed him to tyrannize and manipulate me. But I knew that the moment I refused to supply this apparently necessary ego support, I would lose him.

And I did. When I became interested in the ERA, he often had to wait for me—to get off the phone, to come home from meetings, to come to bed. I ceased to pay much attention to when he came and went. I no longer cared a great deal when he was hours late or rejoiced overmuch when he was early. My life no longer centered around him, as his had never centered around me. I began to live an independent life, such as only men are entitled to. That's when I overstepped my bounds and it was all over.

And I've thought since, with considerable wryness, how for nineteen years I waited for him, and how he couldn't wait for me for one.

-Sonia Johnson, From Housewife to Heretic

[drbased]

ok I have to talk about 'the dialectic of sex' by shulamith firestone because it was one of the first proper feminist books I read and I didn't have the confidence back then to address this book:

so this is still the only book I've read so far that actually uses the words 'radical feminist' - except her definition of this politics is essentially transhumanist luxury space communism. because her understanding is that the 'root' of women's oppression is our reproductive capacity and therefore no matter what happens society will never fully be able to share the burden of childbirth and child-rearing across both sexes.

this book feels so evocative of its time - like there was a small window of pure hope shortly after the invention of the pill and the hippy movement where everything entirely changed for women. like, think about it: up until that point unless you use some sort of condom (which men don't like using - and also not 100% effective anyway) you're basically always vulnerable to being impregnated by a man during piv, which is considered the basic form of sexual intimacy wth men, which women are expected to engage in to be considered full members of society. so women would have all been in some sort of constant state of low-key fear; one sex - or rape - away from having a child that would change their entire existence. that's got to really fuck you up, especially your relationship with your own body. and you could get an abortion but only if you're incredibly lucky, and still getting an abortion is probably more like surviving a car crash than anything - like you're glad you made it through but also you're still damaged psychologically and probably physically as well. and it's such a silent fear as well - because women are supposed to want babies and babies just happen so you're not allowed to complain that this is because your husband always wants sex and he's the one who impregnates you but if he does people say 'she got herself pregnant again'. like there's layer upon layer of psychological terrorism surrounding men's impregnation of women and that's gotta mess you the hell up.

so the invention of the pill - holy shit, just imagine it. the hope. you can take the pill in secret, you can take the power back, you're not uniquely vulnerable to your own bodily forces anymore, that gives you time to fucking think, to be alive, to feel, to feel vulnerable, to feel free. it's like literal magic. if the most basic of happenings - pregnancy - can be actually prevented, then what else can we do to the body? what else can science do for us?? how more free can we get?? It's women's first time to (ironically) feel like a god, able to transcend the body. I'm actually surprised that I've not found more writings like shulamith's - that there weren't more women spurred on by this amazing discovery into further transhumanism. I guess the problem was that women were starting to notice that whilst women were able to change their own individual lives with the pill, that wasn't making men behave any differently.

but I still find it fascinating how this definition of radical feminism hasn't survived at all. as it stands on radblr, the 'root' of women's oppression is men, and therefore the only real solution is separatism. but like, what happened to the brand of feminism that says, uhhhh isn't it actually kinda fucked up that half the human race are burdened entirely with pregnancy, birth and child-rearing? and could we maybe be freed from that if we used science to bring about children another way? I'm not even agreeing with her that that would solve everything (because regardless even if we *could* make babies in a tube, that doesn't mean all women are going to magically become infertile, and it certainly doesn't mean than men are going to be less violent against us), but I'm very interested in questioning what the 'root' of women's oppression is - because modern 'radical feminism' has a lot of gaps to allow for a simplistic narrative that I'm sure many in the community, definitely myself included, are rapidly tiring of. and I think it shows in the separatism debate, which rages on because no one can think of any other solution, because the unspoken tenet is that what the 'root' is is solved and agreed-upon, and therefore the answer is just so damn obvious that the women who don't agree must be scared and stupid. I've been wanting to address this in some form or another for years now, and I guess I'm dipping my toes in it now.

at the very least, I'd like to know if someone has a good source on where the term 'radical feminism' came from and how its meaning has evolved over the years. in ariel levy's 'female chauvinist pigs' she touches on this debate that started in the late seventies that led to the fracturing of feminism and the creation of liberal feminism - and it seems to be along these same lines of separatism vs fucking men. I've always found it odd that there's essentially no middle ground here - like you don't need to embrace 'sluttiness' in order to want to have a healthy sexual relationship with a man, but it seems the liberal feminist side chose that, meanwhile the only other 'mainstream' option seems to be separatism. obviously a lot of the women in radblr don't actually fully agree with that - but all us hetties are suspiciously silent on that subject.

to me the issues with separatism go further than simply sex with men - sure it's psychologically good for you to only purchase from women owned businesses and only read books by women etc etc, and it financially uplifts other women. but also we live under capitalism, which obscures our reliance on each other. when you buy from that woman-owned business, the person delivering your package is likely to be male, the person who assembled the vehicle he drives is likely to be male, the person who constructed the roads he drives on is likely to be male. this is not to say that men are vital - but rather, your 'separatist choice' is a fundamentally capitalistic one that exists more for your peace of mind than being anything actually radical - as in, nothing about the 'root' of women's oppression is addressed in doing so. there's no ethical consumption under capitalism yadda yadda. and only speaking to women irl is also less of a capitalist action but still ultimately an individual one. there's so much emphasis on personal actions as the height of feminism and it screams liberal individualist to me. like you took 'the personal is political' and ran with it.

but if the root of the problem is men, then that's simple, isn't it? just don't interact with men. don't have sex with men. don't pay men, apart from the men who happen to be an inescapable part of the supply chain, they will inevitably get paid by your actions anyway, but you don't have to think about that because that's what capitalism does: it makes you think you have this magical power as an indvidual to make real radical choice in the world, to 'vote with your dollar'.

I'm not exactly calling for firebombing a walmart but I'm bored with the capitalism-loving individualistic liberalism of what this community calls 'radical feminism' - but that same thought-terminating cliche keeps getting thrown at us: 'we're radical, which means we grasp at the root, and the root is male violence, so you can't call yourself a radical feminist if you don't want to do the basic things of not wearing make-up and not fucking men'. and nobody ever seems to stop and question, does any of that actually address the root of our oppression? capitalism isn't the only economic system that has ever oppressed women, but it's the one we live under, and it's very good at sneaking into the backdrop of our lives and naturalising hierarchies - capitalism becomes its own justification, e.g. women choose low-paying jobs just because that's what we gravitate to, yanno?

being genuinely anti-capitalist recomplicates politics all over again, because suddenly it's not an easy men vs women but also men vs women vs rich people, some of whom are women??? and like, what's the solution to that? do we stand with men agains the capitalist system and risk our voices getting silenced, or do we go full single-issue and just go fuck it, capitalism was created by men for themselves like solanas said, so if we stand against men then idk capitalism will just sort of fall by itself? or in reality it's just not addressed at all. separatism itself always sits there as a thought-terminating cliche in and of itself - an accusation ready to be levelled at anyone who wants to question any of these unspoken tenets of radblr. and the goal-post is ever-shifting - separatism is women's land, but if you say that's not a real solution in our capitalist interconnected world then you get accused of not wanting women's spaces because that's obviously what separatism has been about this whole time. also separatism is not fucking men, actually it's not about that it's about prioritising women (vague), and on and on and on - the argument always shifts so the word stays pure. but like, is separatism an end-goal? a political tactic? something you do to enrich your own life and psyche? something to give space for consciousness-raising? I saw someone ages ago claim that the suffragettes wanting the right to vote was somehow separatist because idk, the women were making spaces for themselves? but wanting to involve yourself in male politics is literally assimilationist, no??

I'lm going to stop rambling for now but this was good to get my thoughts out there - I enjoy my theorising in this space but I'm also deeply interested in questioning. I've noticed time and time again that discourse is always stopped by 'you're not a real radical feminist if you do/don't do x' and I've found it really odd and telling that no one's questioned that? like sure I know we've built our whole political framework on 'words mean things' but also it's always worth questioning the definition of 'radical' and what the 'root' of our oppression is, and what we can actually do to address it, and if our narratives and assumptions are too simplistic. the community would be all the better for it imho. I already think the influx of 'tirfs' in the community and the khelif debate has been opening up these unspoken simplistic narratives on the nature of gender vs sex, of socialisation vs low-key biological essentialism, and I think we can push that kind of questioning even further. ramble over.

[terapsina]

Now that the writers and actors strike is about to begin being felt (and as we wait for those greedy billion dollar companies who are refusing to negotiate fair pay and conditions to give up) here's 10 of my favorite (all around best) fully finished older series you should definitely check out if you haven't watched.

I mean it, these are the shows with continuously great writing and a satisfying endings that manage to actually deliver on their promises.

-----

1. Leverage - (containing 5 seasons, or 77 episodes) - trailer here.

Hitter, Hacker, Grifter, Thief and Mastermind. Heists and cons. Stealing from the rich and giving to their victims. They provide... leverage.

Meant for anyone who enjoys bad guys being the best good guys, who will burn down the lives of evil CEOs and then gloat in the background. Very satisfying.

Hands down the best example of a found family trope I've ever seen on screen. Barring none.

2. Killjoys - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Space Bounty Hunters. Another case of found family trope. Bisexual space princess assassin. Quippy sentient ship. Green alien goo. Evil lesbians (but like... in a good way). The warrant is all.

More seriously though, it's a story about three killjoys and the bounties they go after. Initially. And then they have to save the entire Quad from some very terrifying... stuff.

Contains one of the best friendships I've ever seen on television.

3. Orphan Black - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Found family trope but with clones.

Low level grifter sees a woman who looks exactly like her kill herself and plans to take over her identity long enough to cash out. Except then there's two other women who also look exactly like her. And apparently they're all clones and someone's killing them.

Enter a global conspiracy. Human experimentation. Lots of clone shenanigans. Some serial killings. And a few murders 💖.

4. Person of Interest - (containing 5 seasons, or 103 episodes) - trailer here.

Okay I'm beginning to see how I might have a found family trope issue.

Former CIA agent gets recruited by a reclusive billionaire computer programmer who developed a... machine that can predict acts of terror before they happen. But it also predicts 'irrelevant' acts of violence that will result in someone's death.

Unless someone interferes.

I'd really like to spoil some stuff to get you all to watch this one. But I'm going to maintain self control and just mention that early on they get a dog named Bear. Bear is a very good boy. Watch it for Bear.

Also for excellent commentary on rights of privacy, government surveillance and what does 'greater good' even mean? But mostly Bear.

5. 12 Monkeys - (containing 4 seasons, or 47 episodes) - trailer here.

The very best time travel show out there. What starts out as a confusing mess of causality basically exploding, by the end of the series all makes complete and total sense.

(when that final timey-whimey loop slid into place and revealed the entire pattern it was like a choir of angels started singing in the back of my head. It was freaking glorious).

Anyway, a man from a post apocalyptic future travels into the past to stop a plague from decimating nearly the entire world population.

He has the name of the man who released the virus and it's supposed to be a single trip. One trip. One bullet. Simple. Done.

Except then things keep escalating, and escalating until time begins eating its own tail and it might start looking like the end of the world might be a better ending than erasing all of time and space from reality.

Because when our guys screw it up, they screw it up GOOD.

And oh yeah... found family.

6. The Good Place - (containing 4 seasons, or 53 episodes) - trailer here.

A self-proclaimed Arizona dirtbag opens her eyes and finds out that she's dead and got accepted in the Good Place. Except that as soon as she arrives the Good Place starts glitching, and she really, REALLY needs to become a better person before she can be found out and kicked out to the Bad Place.

Luckily her assigned soulmate was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy.

One of the funniest, most thoughtful and clever comedies I've ever watched. Ever. The characters are delightful and by the time the final minute rolled around I had sobbed my heart out multiple times (which, as we all know, is a sign of the very best comedies out there).

As for the question of whether or not this too contains Found Fami- Yes! Obviously, yes.

7. Avatar: the Last Airbender - (containing 3 seasons, or 61 episodes) - intro here (couldn't locate the trailer but it's basically the same thing in this case).

The four nations lived in harmony. Until the Fire Nation attacked.

It's been a hundred years since the beginning of the war when two kids from the Southern Water Tribe find a boy frozen in ice and wake him up. A boy who's able to bend all four elements... though not very well.

Enter multi-nation flying road trip (thank you Appa, we love you most of all) as they try to find teachers for the Avatar and save the world.

Includes found family (shut up), amazing fight scenes, the most heartfelt and vivid characters ever, and the best example of a redemption arc actually done well.

8. Love Between Fairy and Devil - (containing 1 season, or 36 episodes) - trailer here.

This one gutted me. I'm saying this as a compliment. But it had to be said. Completely destroyed me. I just haven't been the same.

A love story between an Orchid Fairy and the leader of the Moon Tribe that starts out with her accidentally releasing him from millennia long imprisonment and then takes you through the caleidoscope of all possible human emotions (it's a body-swap comedy through the first part, then a romcom, then a dramatic romantic tale, and finally a tragic love story).

But it's such a satisfying slow burn.

And it carries this... humanity through the whole thing that makes it so visceral.

If you're a romantic who's very tired of instalove and characters dropping all their morals because 'ooh, attractive person' then you've got to watch this. Because this story does NOT take the easy road there.

(my more extensive rec for this series can be found here)

9. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - (containing 7 seasons, or 133 episodes) - fanmade trailer here (it was better than any of the official ones).

This series did so much. Introduced Ahsoka Tano, and made us love her. Gave names and faces and souls to the Clone Troopers (okay, it's the same face but you know what I mean), to a point where their endings during Order 66 destroyed me just as much as the ending of the Jedi Order. And somehow made me both love Anakin AND be a million times more angry with him.

There are some arcs in this series that might be a bit weaker. But there were some... god, there's a reason I love Clone Wars more than any other series or trilogy in this universe. And I'm not even a little ashamed to say it.

Must watch for Disaster Lineage shenanigans; for the vod'e; AND for the Jedi (who did their best okay? They always did their best 😭💔).

(and on the subject of found family... do I even need to comment)

10. Nikita - (containing 4 seasons, or 73 episodes) - trailer here.

A rogue assassin that escaped Division - covert government agency that takes recruits out of prison, fakes their deaths and then forces them to become spies and assassins - has come back to take it down. Brick by brick if she has to. With guns and explosives too when that works better.

Contains soooo many cool fight scenes. Is full of incredible characters you'll fall in love with (and hate with) very quickly. And most of all has an incredibly complex relationship of mentorship and friendship between two women that holds both great admiration and betrayal, real care and love as well as rage and hatred, forgiveness, mutual respect and an unbreakable kind of bond that so very rarely involves even one female character on TV, let alone two.

(as usual, found family tropes up the wazzoo).

-----

In conclusion. We all know there's going to be a large space between seasons of our favorite shows now (and some shows that aren't going to survive it). Let's fill that space with some excellent TV we haven't had a chance to see yet.

And direct the blame for the wait towards the right place (i.e. the studios).