#i aim instead to separate from the world at large

[ankhmeanswombman]

Protecting your aura (mentally and physically) in this satanic world makes a lot of sense and will pacify your eternal soul and block the world's constant babbling from your energy-sphere.

#alternative separatism #separating from the broken female sex or the broken male sex doesnt work #i aim instead to separate from the world at large #to dwell in my own bubble #and operate from a space where it is just me #because i work so much better alone #veiling is a beautiful practice #especially when coupled with physical exercise martial arts and research #THAT is spiritual aura cleansing and soul protection #people get so mad when you veil and they cant lay their physical senses all over your anima #fasting and veiling make the parasite ridden mad

[theotterpenguin]

the performative accusation that shipping zutara (and occasionally this criticism is levied at jinko/zukka) is colonialist apologism has been addressed in some excellent posts, explaining the inaccuracies and problematic implications of this logic far better than i ever could - like this post and this one and this one and this one and this one.

and i know this topic has been talked about to death, but if you could indulge my contribution for a moment, i just find it interesting how this sentiment results from the cognitive dissonance of atla fans being unable to reconcile with the idea of their favorite show's political beliefs not lining up with their own.

atla is a largely philosophical children's show that at its core deals with themes of love, redemption, and destiny vs. free-will. atla examines these themes through an anti-colonalist, anti-imperalist lens that deconstructs the idea of racial divisiveness and the idea that people of different ethnicities are inherently different. this is message is pretty explicitly stated by guru pathik:

Guru Pathik: "The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same." Aang: "Like the four nations?" Guru Pathik: "Yes. We are all one people. But we live as if divided."

and also by uncle iroh:

"It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements and the other nations will help you become whole."

this theme is developed across three full seasons, with the crux of this message culminating in zuko's friendships with the gaang - despite coming from different nationalities and different backgrounds, they have all had their own experiences being hurt by the fire nation and work together to take down the oppressive fire nation government. the question of destiny vs. free will is also explored through zuko's character - despite starting off as an antagonist, he develops into a symbolic representation of how the fire nation's oppression hurts its own citizens. he unlearns the fire nation's imperialist propaganda while simultaneously unlearning his father's abuse. rather than following misguided beliefs of what he thought his destiny was as the heir to the throne, instead he forges his own path.

thus, to claim that zuko can never form a deep and meaningful relationship with any of the gaang because of his nationality goes unequivocally against the themes of the show. and a major part of this is because these are fictional characters being used to analyze different theoretical questions within the show and in some cases, are used as symbolic representations of different philosophical ideas - their friendships and their character arcs serve a purpose within the text that cannot be easily transcribed onto real-life dynamics between people.

it's illogical to criticize fans who are choosing to understand atla at the level of the themes that are presented by the text - who are interested in exploring similar philosophical questions brought up by the show through the context of relationships.

if you don't like the themes of forgiveness and redemption that atla explores, your criticism should be aimed at the writing of the show itself rather than other fans. because you are giving far more thought to the "implications" of a close friendship or romantic relationship between someone from an imperalist nation and someone from an oppressed nation than the writers ever did. (and if you fall in this camp of people, i would hope you wouldn't be reblogging fanart of zuko and the gaang together while simultaneously claiming zuko could can never escape the sins of his ancestors and can never form a deep relationship based on trust and intimacy with katara or sokka or jin - because that would just be hypocritical).

and as a side note, people seem to apply this flawed logic to zutara far more than other ships solely because the show spends the most time exploring the complicated nature of fire nation imperalism in the interactions between zuko and katara in the latter half of b3. this is because they've been juxtapositioned against each other and paralleled with aang since the beginning of the show in ways that toph, sokka, and suki are not, who have mostly been used to examine different themes. there simply isn't enough time to explore these complicated themes with all the other characters, even if they theoretically exist in zuko’s dynamics with these characters, so the writers focus the most on zuko's relationships with katara and aang, and these relationships are given far more narrative weight, so have more content to criticize. but zuko and katara also canonically become friends by the end of the show. if you want to discount the existence of their friendship, claiming that it will always be tainted by the fire nation's oppression regardless of what is shown in the text, then you also have to discount zuko's friendships with aang, suki, toph, and sokka - because even if this isn't shown as a permanent barrier to their friendships in the show, it’s also not shown as a permanent barrier to his friendship with katara. if your logic is solely based on the idea that a person's identity in a relationship as a colonizer or a victim is fixed and unchanging regardless of character development, this would apply to zuko's friendships with everyone else as well.

#zuko #katara #zutara #i have seen people say that the zutara dynamic makes them personally uncomfortable and that's fine - to each their own! #but it's hypocritical to only dislike zuko's relationship with katara while simultaneously exalting his friendships w aang or toph or sokka #just because the show doesn’t take as much time to explore these issues with other characters doesn’t mean the same dynamic doesn’t apply #my post #my meta

[writingstreetspirit]

Not Time Yet

Summary: In quest to save Spider and escape the sinking ship, you take the bullet instead of Neteyam

Pairing: Neteyam x GN Navi!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers from ATWOW, gunshot wound, blood, angst, near death experience

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: There it is! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you like it. Also, thanks for all the support and response I’ve gotten recently, you guys are incredible!

—

The ship that held your friends was quickly sinking thanks to large part to Payakan. Screaming and gunfire filled your eardrums, trying to push it away and focusing on freeing Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk and Tsireya with Neteyam and getting the hell away from the ship.

It went surprisingly smooth, despite the shooting around and against you. Somewhere along the fighting, the group was separated from Kiri, Tsireya and Tuk after you and Neteyam got his siblings out of the bindings tying them to the skip. That was until Lo’ak refused to leave Spider behind who was still inside somewhere. ”They have Spider! We’ve got to get him, come on!”

Neteyam, being the older protective brother, of course followed after Lo’ak, and you followed after them. You three found Spider and made quick work of trying to escape from the ship will simultaneously getting shot at by the fake Avatars still onboard. The group made it to a railing overlooking the to the sea, and while Neteyam shot with a gun at the humans, Spider ran across and flung himself over the railing and into the water followed by Lo’ak.

”Alright, on the count of three, we run.” Neteyam took your hand in one of his while still shooting with the other. You squeezed his hand and nodded quickly before you remembered he couldn’t see it, instead responded with an okay. Neteyam started the countdown. ”One, two, three!”

He dropped the gun and broke out in run, heaving yourselves over the railing and free falling into the sea, away from the bullets aiming for the two of you. Yes, we made it! Even before you made impact the water, a sharp stinking sensation appeared in your chest. Your legs struggled to kick upwards when your body submerged in the water, swimming up to the surface and gasping for air moments after Neteyam did. Lo’ak and Spider were bobbing in the waves, waiting for you two to emerge, looking relieved. ”There you are, let's get out of here!”

Pain stabbed in your chest as you tried to follow the boys, so you stopped moving with a hiss. You looked down at yourself, and horror filled you upon seeing the water around your body slowly turning red. Neteyam, being the closes two you, heard the hissing and turned back around. Concern filled his eyes as he swam closer. He touched his hand to your shoulder tenderly. ”[Name], are you alright?”

His eyes scanned your body, looking from your face down to your chest, seeing what was wrong. Neteyam pressed his hand immediately firmly against the middle of your chest right where the burning sensation was located. ”Shit! Lo’ak, Spider, they have been shot!”

What felt like in the blink of an eye, Lo’ak and Spider was by your sides and grabbing a hold of you and starting to swim away towards the cliffs. Neteyam cradled your head in one hand, the other still pressing against the bleeding wound. You saw his lips moving but the words he spoke didn’t reach your ears. Your vision was blurring and ears ringing, everything seemed to be going in slow motion and speed up at the same time. Lungs struggling to pull in air, there’s not enough air, I cannot breathe, I cannot br-

“Dad! Dad, help! It’s [Name], they’re shot!” Lo’ak shouted loudly as another pair of hands griped at your body, helping to carry you up and out of the water to the nearest cliff-site. “Watch their head!” Distinctly you note that you’re no longer in the water but laid on your back with Neteyam, Spider, Lo’ak, Jake and Tsireya above you, eyes frightened and close to tears.

Then suddenly the world had tilted to the side along with your body, it’s Jake hands rolling you over to the side. “No exit wound, that’s good. Keep pressure on the wound Neteyam! We’ve got to get them to the Tsahík and quickly.”

Facing upwards again, you look up at the blue sky, breathing getting more and more difficult with every inhale and exhale. Out of the corner of your eye, a green ikran carrying Neytiri landed, the woman detaching the tsaheylu before rushing to join Jake’s side, looking down at you with so much worry and sadness.

Neteyam locks his gaze with yours, his eyes heavy and tortured. Strong hands cradle your cheeks, smearing blood on your skin, not that it really mattered. Another pair replaces his on the oozing wound. His thumbs swiped under your eyes, and you didn’t realize till now that your crying. “Stay awake, yawne (beloved), you will be alright. Just, please stay awake!”

A trembling hand moves up to clutch at Neteyam’s wrist, holding on as tight as you could. Black dots were appeared, each and every breath turning more and more difficult and painful to inhale. You knew you were going to die. Trembling lips curved into the smile that Neteyam first fell in love with all those months ago. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you), Neteyam.”

Tears spilled from Neteyam’s eyes, rolling down his cheeks. The boy you loved above else was suffering, seeing the one he loved saying farewell. Neteyam shook his head, a sob escaping his lips, refusing to believe that he was losing you. “No, do not say goodbye. I can’t lose you!”

You leaned your head back as exhaustion creeped upon you, letting your hand slowly fall from Neteyam’s cheek. The breath left your lungs in an exhale. All the voices and touches of the ones you loved fell to the background as your eyes slid shut without your permission and you lost consciousness. Peace, all you could feel was peace.

-

Neteyam has been pacing back and forth for what felt like days, ever since he and his family rushed back to Awa’atlu with your unconscious body. It’s been hours since Ronal and Tsireya took you inside the healing hut and forbade any visitors. Neteyam felt numb, not knowing if his chosen mate was alive or not. If he would ever see their eye color, or their smile, or feel their touch ever again. Jake and Neytiri had tried to calm their eldest son distress several times with no result, so they had turned their attention to the rest of their children instead.

Lo’ak and Kiri were usually silent, Tuk fell asleep eventually after having cried into her mom’s shoulder. Even Spider was hopeless on what to do. After what was several stressful hours, Ronal stepped out of the hut, and everyone was up and on their feet again in seconds. Before the Tsahík could even open her mouth to dress the family, Neteyam beat her to it. ”Are they okay? Are they alive? Can I see them?”

”Yes, they are alive, and they are going to get better. I have done what I could for them. Now we pray that Eywa wills them a fast recovery.” Ronal spoke, her voice as tender as Neteyam have ever heard. ”You may see them, but only for a moment. They are still weak and need to rest.”

With the given permission, Neteyam ducked into the hut, careful to make his steppes light. His heart broke even further at the sight of you. You lay on a bedding on the huts floor, sound asleep. Your wound had been treated with healing herbs and wrapped with cloth, the material stained with your blood. It would need to be changed soon.

Neteyam slowly sat down beside your sleeping body. He took your limb hand in his, squeezing your hand tenderly. He leaned his cheek against the soft skin, breathing your scent in, letting his eyelids fall shut. He gave his thanks to Eywa for not taking you away yet, for allowing you to remain with Neteyam a while more. A squeeze on his hand made Neteyam open his eyes again.

”Do not look so sad, tìyawn (love). It does not suit you.” You mumbled, blinking eyes open to look at the male beside you. A smile stretched across your face despite the throbbing pain in your chest, happy to be alive and close with the man you’ve chosen. But Neteyam frowned.

”You almost died. I almost lost you, yawne (beloved). I…I can not lose you [Name], my heart wouldn’t survive it.” Your smile turned softer, more gentle. You could understand the fear Neteyam experienced, it was one you felt hundreds of times before, every time he and Lo’ak followed Jake out to battle, praying to Eywa to please bring him back alive.

You brought your hand up to Neteyam’s cheek, cupping the soft skin, thumb stroking the flesh absentmindedly. ”I am alive Neteyam, you will not lose me anytime soon. Eywa wouldn’t have placed me in your path if she didn’t mean more for us.”

”Nga yawne lu oer (I love you), Oel ngati kameie (I see you).” Neteyam leaned down, resting his lips against your forehead, cheeks and finally your lips. You smiled against his lips, kissing him back before letting yourself speak the words between kisses. ”Nga yawne lu oer (I love you).”

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #avatar kiri #avatar lo’ak #avatar neteyam #avatar x y/n #avatar tsireya #avatar 2009 #avatar jake #avatar neytiri #writingstreetspirit

[shamelesstragedyenjoyer]

Let's delve into the intricacies of an Omegaverse society, drawing insights from both biology and evolution. As a social science student myself with a background in anthropology, I aim to explore various aspects of this complex world, including its prison system, bathroom arrangements, treatment of the transgender community, societal norms, stigmas, reproduction dynamics, birth rates, and even the portrayal of sexuality through pornography.

Collaborating with my best friend, a medical student well-versed in anatomy, we've pooled our knowledge to shed light on how such a society might function, drawing parallels and extrapolating from existing data in our world.

So. Within the Omegaverse, there exist two overarching categories, male and female, each subdivided into three distinct statuses: Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Over time, the majority of individuals have transitioned beyond the Alpha and Omega distinctions, akin to how the human female body evolved past its reproductive heat cycles during the paleolithic period, marking a pivotal moment in human evolution.

In the distant past, during the age, Alpha males and Alpha females coexisted alongside their counterparts, Omega males and Omega females. The differences between Alpha males and females were minimal, much like the similarities between the two Omega sexes. However, there still were differences in genitalia where only Alpha females and Omega males displayed intersex characteristics. The enlarged clitoris of an Alpha female, resembling but distinct from a penis, possessed a knot—a feature absent in Alpha males— because of it's inability to produce sperm which necessitated an evolutionary adaptation towards a larger knot, in order to increase the chances of pregnancy.

Like stated before, the transition into a largely Beta population occurred even before the neolithic era, resulting into a similar contemporary societal structure as we know today. However, there being secondary genders didn't stop the historical oppression of all women. Only now it extended to impact Omega males, though they can pass as Betas if their genitalia remains private. Contrary to popular beliefs, there is no discernible scent associated with Omegas in heat; instead, it is their aura and demeanor that undergo noticeable changes. A "sex appeal", if you will, that affects everyone except Beta women for a vast number of reasons i'll touch upon later.

Legal frameworks exists to address non-consensual interactions with Omegas in heat, and sometimes even with Alphas in ruts. Statistical data still reflects a disproportionate involvement of Alpha and Beta males in such crimes.

In cases of rape involving an Omega in heat, the perpetrator might exploit societal biases to justify their actions or even escape punishment altogether. They might argue that the Omega's biological state somehow diminished the severity of the crime.

Similarly, in cases of rape involving an Alpha in rut, the legal system might downplay the seriousness of the offense due to the perceived status and power of the victim over the perpetrator.

In such a society, power dynamics based on genetic status and gender could heavily influence the legal process as well. Despite the vulnerability of Omegas in heat and the potential vulnerability of Alphas in rut, the legal system might consider it an extenuating circumstance for the aggressor.

In the Alpha Beta Omega prison system, inmates are segregated based on their genetic status and gender to ensure safety and maintain social order. Alpha males and Alpha females, Beta males and Beta females & Omega males and Omega females are all housed in separate facilities due to the perceived risks associated with mixing different genetic statuses and genders.

This segregation is justified by concerns for safety, as it is believed that males, regardless of their secondary gender, have the potential to overpower females. By separating inmates in this manner, authorities aim to mitigate the risks of violence and maintain control within the prison environment.

Alphas and Omegas are not exceedingly rare, but they remain somewhat uncommon, often noted and remembered as peculiarities. Their presence evokes a similar level of curiosity as encountering a left-handed person or a natural redhead—an intriguing aspect of diversity that captures attention but is ultimately regarded with a level of casual interest.

Second out of three parts coming right up, Tumblr won't let me post more images !

Also stay tuned, next part is gonna include a list of the Batfam members who I think are Omegas

#somone please shut my 🤓👆🏾 ass up #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #alpha beta omega #batfam #batman comics #batman #jason todd #tim drake #clois #clark kent #stephanie brown #duke thomas #signal

[feelyourrush]

A Sonny Disposition || Tim LaFlour x F!OC || Chapter 001

Synopsis: Sonny, a freshman at Stratford University, is a bubbly and hyper-feminine fashion design student all the way from Australia. She's excited to be on her own for the first time, but settling into independence is proving to be more complicated than she anticipated. Thankfully, fellow student, piercing-lover punk, and hockey ingenue Tim LaFlour lives in the same apartment building as her and is more than willing to lend a helping hand—even if they seem to be from completely separate worlds. What will they learn from each other? What will they have the patience to teach each other?

Genre/tags: Pure fluff, no smut. A friends-to-lovers slow burn romance with mutual pining. Imagine two golden retrievers crushing hard on each other p much!! Slight age difference, big size difference.

Word count: 1,850

A/N: My first fic in the Matt Lillard tag! My first fic on this blog! My first fic in a long, long time. And of course I couldn't help but start a new series. Aiming for this to be a novella/shorter chapter book. Hope y'all enjoy and please leave feedback if you have it!!

"Honestly, Auntie Steph, Uncle Benny—" I let out a grunt, hoisting a large suitcase and out of the back of their trunk— "Don't worry too much about me. I'll be fine, and I know who to call in case I need any help."

They followed behind me, with Auntie Steph carrying a large dress form and Uncle Benny pushing a dolly with the rest of my things. "We know, love. We're just one call away, and your Auntie Steph has some clients downtown," Uncle Benny addressed me from behind the pile of moving boxes atop the dolly as we walked into the apartment building.

"Right. I'm down here at least twice a week," Aunt Steph said. She was a consultant for an interior design firm, handling top-tier clients. Famous actresses, hockey players, the like. I held the door open as best as I could, practically squished between the door and the railing of the small staircase up to the apartment building.

I was a few days away from starting my freshman year at Stratford University in Toronto. I was a late registrant, so by the time I got accepted, there was no housing left in the freshman dorms. Instead, I was assigned to an apartment typically reserved for the upperclassmen. It was still maintained by the university, but I supposed I still had perks. Living with the older students probably meant a bit more freedom, not that I was planning on doing much besides schoolwork.

My aunt and uncle were just like my parents, worrywarts. Except, I could at least dodge my parents somewhat; I came all the way from Australia where I've lived for the last... well, my whole life. They were busy with work so all they could do was drop me off at the airport. Between then and about an hour ago, when I met up with my aunt and uncle at the airport, I traveled alone and enjoyed it. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, and I appreciate having people who cared about me a lot—but my goodness, could they be overbearing!

I was trying to hide my anxiousness to get rid of my aunt and uncle, but I wasn't so sure how well it was working. "I know. I've got you both on speed dial," I said, flashing them one of my signature megawatt smiles as we careened my things inside.

Like in the movies, students were bustling across the lobby, traversing its small space with ease. They looked grown up, if that makes sense. I felt intimidated, to say the least, and had half a mind to pay a visit to the chancellor's office or find someone else in charge to see if they could squeeze me into one of the freshman dorms. I would take an air duct if it was all they had.

My apartment was upstairs, at the very end of the hall on the third floor. The building seemed older, less well-kept and modern like the rest of the university. The dusty spiderwebs in the corners of the ceiling and the scratched linoleum in my room gave the whole place a nice charm, though. It was lived-in, and felt grown-up, too.

I could feel the excitement set in as Uncle Benny emptied the dolly. Eventually, they plopped onto the sunken-in, emerald green couch in the middle of the living room. I laughed, watching them take their exaggerated breaths. We were a theatrical bunch.

"Somehow, we did it," Auntie Steph said.

Uncle Benny checked his watch. "Alright, honey. It's almost lunch time. We'll get out of your hair so you can get something to eat. Remember what we said."

"Of course," I said, giving them hugs as they stood up from the couch. Real good hugs, too, like the ones I'd given my family right before I got on the plane. It was a bittersweet moment, one that marked the end of my phase as that little kid who played dress up with her Barbie dolls and the beginning of my new chapter as a fashion design student. "I love you both."

"We love you too," Aunt Steph said. "We'll send our wishes."

After they left, I was so exhausted from my long journey that I thought I'd better rest, too. With a deep breath, I landed on the couch—and heard a crack of wood underneath me. I sank a few inches.

===

"Thanks so much," I said while signing my name on a piece of paper. I looked up at the gentleman with a polite, expectant smile.

"Are ya sure you don't need our help carrying this up?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at me. Behind him, a small crew of movers were transporting my new couch into the lobby.

"Umm..." I sized the couch up and down. It was about the same size as my old one, with three cushions. Knowing my parents, they ordered me something a bit hefty so it would last longer, made of real wood and all. I had the upper body strength of a squirrel, probably, but I didn't want to look stupid in front of the movers. I was grown up, after all, doing big girl things now. Surely I could move a couch by myself. Giving them all a thumbs up, I said, "I should be able to handle it. Got some friends coming soon to help me."

"Alright," the gentleman filed my papers away and gave his crew a shrug before walking out. "Have a good day, miss."

It was just me and a couch in the lobby now. "Hmm." I circled it, feeling its plastic wrap. At least I wouldn't have to worry about the cushions flying off while I was carrying this thing. I glanced over at the elevator, which was much too small to fit the couch on (and it probably would've been over the weight limit). Then I looked up at the stairs.

Not realizing I was taking up the space in front of the main entryway to the building, I heard someone clear their throat behind me, startling me.

"Uh... need a hand?"

I didn't know where to look first, because it certainly wasn't his face. He was a tall guy, at least a foot taller than me, bleach blonde, and he wore these giant black combat boots, faded gray jeans that had more than a little distressing on them, and a cut-off t-shirt that said The Ramones on it. He had a cornucopia of piercings on his face. Their silver beads reflected under the fluorescent light. I'd never seen anyone like him before.

I was probably gawking, because a second later, he spoke again. "You okay?"

I picked my jaw up off the floor. "Yeah! Yeah, totally. I just, um..." I chuckled awkwardly, patting the top of the couch.

"Did you order this thing?"

"Yes, I did," I said confidently.

"You know, the apartments come with their own couches, right?" He couldn't hide his smile.

"Yeah," I said, not so confidently anymore. For a scary-looking guy, he had a big, friendly smile. It caught me off guard, just like the rest of him did. "Mine, um, broke."

Despite his smile, I thought he was going to chew me out and tell me to move. But he looked the couch up and down, and then looked at me at least up (my lower half was covered by the back of the couch) and said, "Right. Well, I'm cool with it being here but I don't know if the rest of the guys will be."

"Rest of the...?"

Before I knew it, a slew of boys—men? students?—flooded into the apartment building, vaulting over the couch and brushing past me to go upstairs. They were all the same size and stature as him and for a second there, I was worried I would get trampled, so I stayed completely still, scrunching my face.

They were all carrying duffel bags and hockey sticks, dressed in Stratford jerseys and sweatpants. I put two and two together. When the dust settled was around the same time I realized I could ask them to help me carry the couch up, but they were already gone by then. I looked over at the guy and we seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"Do you think I could—"

"Hey, do you need—"

We chuckled, realizing we talked over each other. He said, "I got you." Then, he hollered up, "Hey! Sammo! Bowman! Could use a hand."

They spawned from above, almost racing each other to the bottom of the steps. I couldn't help but laugh at how rowdy they were.

"Oh, we got a new couch for the spot, eh?" asked Sammo, whose name was on his jersey. Bowman splayed across the couch for a laugh before hopping back up.

"This is..." the blonde guy looked over at me, furrowing his brow.

"Sonny. I'm Sonny," I smiled.

"Tim, you caught yourself a girl from down undah?" Sammo teased.

The blonde, who I knew now as Tim, continued. "....Sonny, and she needs our help carrying this to her apartment. Apartment...?"

"13."

"Damn. That's all the way at the end of the hall, isn't it?" Bowman asked.

"C'mon, boys. Sonny's new around here. Let's be polite and make her want to stay," Tim said. It was then that I noticed he also had a duffel bag and hockey sticks, which he set down outside. They each took a side and I went to lift my own, but I was met with a hand up from Sammo.

"Don't worry about this, me'lady. Don't want you liftin' up a finger." Sammo grinned.

So, I took careful steps behind them, figuring I shouldn't insist to be in the way, and watched them pivot with every bend of the staircase. This was a whole lot easier than careening this whole thing up myself. I wasn't sure what I was thinking when I let those movers leave.

Finally, they set the couch down in the middle of my room. It seemed to be no effort to them at all. I wore a warm smile.

"Thank you guys, so much," I said, holding my hands together.

"Ah, don't mention it. C'mon, Sammo, let's go." The pair left my place, and me and Tim, alone.

I chuckled, feeling a bit awkward. "You really saved the day," I said. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry," he told me. "Looks like we were at the right place at the right time." He smiled. "Well, Sonny, it turns out I'm actually in the apartment right underneath you. Number six. So if you need anything else..."

A sort of dread filled my stomach. You could hear every step you took in this place thanks to the creaky wooden floors. I was already a bit worried about bothering my neighbors with my endless nights of sewing and my impromptu dance parties, now I had to think about not bothering Tim. Strange and yet adorable and super helpful Tim. I tried to hide how horrified I was with a smile right back.

"Cool. I'll keep that in mind," I said. "Thanks again, and, um, see ya around."

"See ya."

#tim laflour fluff #tim laflour x reader #tim laflour #matthew lillard x reader #matthew lillard #poc writer #senseless 1998

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | twenty-six.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: n/a

chapter word count: 3796

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Admissions

You stared at the roses, still fully in bloom despite the months that had passed since Feyre and Tamlin’s doomed wedding; this damn eternal Spring. Once the never-ending blooming flowers and green, fresh gardens had been a beauty you thought you’d never stop being in awe of, now they only reminded you of everything you had been forced to face since you’d first seen these grounds.

Above, the stars were dim twinkles in the darkness. There were so few visible here in the Spring Court. Not like Velaris, where you could practically see the very bursts of each and every star in the sky, even those that stretched far off to other worlds beyond the skies of the world that you knew.

Only the creeping darkness, more-so than had been present during your wait, told you that the person you were meeting had finally arrived. You didn’t turn, didn’t look at them, your eyes trained on that sky above. You couldn’t look at the roses, couldn’t think about what they represented.

“I thought I was meeting with Rhys,” you said into the night. You heard the soft inhale behind you.

“He’s…preoccupied tonight,” Azriel said softly. You raised an eyebrow, scoffing slightly.

“Is that what he calls it when he’s avoiding someone?” You countered, crossing your arms over yourself. Despite the thick tunic you had borrowed from Lucien’s wardrobe after he had fallen asleep, large enough to wrap around you comfortably, there was still an odd chill to the air that night, one unknown to the Spring Court before. You couldn’t help thinking that, perhaps, it was foreshadowing for what was to come should Tamlin answer that letter. What would become of these lands - cold and unforgiving - if Tamlin was to side with the enemy.

“He’s not avoiding you,” Azriel said, but when you finally turned to look at him in disbelief over your shoulder, he shrugged, hands still tucked into his pockets. “He thought you wouldn’t want to see him.”

“And he would be right,” you confirmed.

Azriel pinched his lips just a tad. “He is sorry.”

“I’m sure he is,” you said, hands rubbing the cold from your arms. Azriel’s dark eyes followed the motion, seemed to linger a second on that tunic, on the way it sat too large on your body, on the way it was Autumn Court amber. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive him.”

He tilted his head to the side, looking back up at your face. “Well, he deserves to wallow for a while,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Let him stew in it.”

You didn’t answer, instead glancing over his shoulder toward the manor; it was dark inside, no faelights or candles to be seen, but Tamlin had yet to return, despite it being long past midnight, and you couldn’t risk being caught with Azriel, consorting with what Tamlin believed to be the enemy.

“We don’t have long,” you said, and Azriel nodded firmly.

“What have you found out?” He asked.

“Tamlin received a letter from Hybern,” you explained, and a flash of concern fell over Azriel’s eyes, clouding them for a second, before they returned to their natural hazel.

“What did it say?” He asked slowly, taking a step closer to you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Ianthe caught me snooping before I had a chance to read it. But I’m sure it’ll be offering Tamlin something in return for siding with Hybern in the war. That has to be it.”

Azriel began to pace, the gravel of the path crunching beneath every single step that he took, running a hand through his dark locks. “That would be the most logical assumption,” he said quietly. “But Hybern’s not stupid. He wouldn’t have made his intentions clear in a letter. There’ll be something more to this, I’m sure of it.” He halted his movement, glancing at you from the side of his eye. “Keep an eye out, find out anything you can.”

You nodded firmly. “I will.”

Azriel looked you over once, almost as if considering something, and then stepped forward again. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, brushing your own hands away; something in the warmth of his touch thawed the chill across your body. His eyes caught yours and the gaze was so intense, so severe and fierce that had it been someone else, someone who wasn’t your friend, who hadn’t saved you so many months ago, you would have looked away. That didn’t stop the flush from creeping across your breeze-chilled cheeks. “This - you being here at all - is dangerous, Y/N. I know that you know that. But things are about to get real.”

You blinked slowly up at him, your features slack in surprise. “You’re so close to Hybern now,” he continued, his thumbs stroking over your arms gently. “What comes after this isn’t going to be easy, and I’m worried for you.” He paused, and then removed his hands from you so fast that it was almost as if he’d been burnt. He took a step back from you, looking down at the path, shoving his hands in his pockets again. He swallowed once. “I just…I just want you to be careful. Be safe. We need you back in Velaris in one piece.”

You smiled softly, reaching forward to touch his forearm, warm beneath the leather. “I will be.”

His eyes trained on you for a moment. “I think it’s best that we keep in contact more regularly from now on. Once a week. I’ll have Rhys send over a message each time, to confirm the location.”

That moment of vulnerability was over, and as he stood there now, he was the spymaster of the Night Court, the Shadowsinger. The loyal apostle to his leader. No sign of a friend. No sign of whoever had practically begged you to be safe. Who had been so against the idea of sending you back to the Spring Court in the first place.

So you simply nodded, once, and then again. He held your stare, his body turning as if he were going to go, but his eyes lingering a moment longer. Then he cleared his throat, turned away from you entirely, and in a cloud of shadows he disappeared into the night.

You stayed there for just a moment, looking to the spot where he had been moments ago, then you turned and made your way back to the manor. Your walk back to the manor was slow, your feet dragging, eyes trailing upward to those stars once again.

‘If you ever decided to stay, there would always be room for you,’ Cassian had said.

‘We need you back in Velaris in one piece,’ Azriel had said.

Even Tamlin had once said, long before Under the Mountain, when you had still been mortal, just like Cassian, ‘You could stay here you know. There’s room for you here.’

Was it only Rhys who didn’t seem to care? Once upon a time he had. He’d said that you were his hope, had helped you when very few people had even cared to. But now…now he sent you back into the throws of terror, back into the arms of a brother you had sworn you would never go back to. Had blamed you for something that brother had done. And now sent his own brother in his stead, pretending that it was to make you more comfortable, but was likely because he couldn’t face you after what he had said.

You’d once imagined Velaris as a home of sorts. Perhaps not a permanent one, but a home nonetheless. Now, with your relationship with its High Lord so…tentative, could it really be your home? Yet, the same problem lurked here, in the Spring Court. Perhaps you’d never find a real home in Prythian.

Red glinted in your periphery, and you paused, eyes snapping down, to the patio attached to the house where Lucien stood, watching you curiously. You drew in a deep breath, and continued onward down the path.

“What were you doing?” Lucien asked when you finally reached him, passing right by him toward the house, toward the dark foyer and the bed upstairs that was calling your name.

“I went for a walk,” was all you said in reply.

“At this time of night?” Lucien asked with a small scoff. He caught your upper-arm, pulling you back toward him. The moonlight filtered through the open patio doors, illuminating the tiled floor of the foyer in white light, illuminating his golden complexion in white light, as bright, you imagined, as Helion’s power, the High Lord of the Day Court who wielded pure sunlight. “What were you really doing out there?”

“I was thinking,” you said, the lie slipping from your tongue with ease, but tasting like salt. A lie to him. Another lie to Lucien.

“Thinking about what?” He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. Gold and russet honed on your features, scanning over every inch of your face. You drew in a shuddering breath, your arm feeling clammy under his grip, and gazed up at him. It was time, you decided, for him to know everything. For each lie to come to truth.

“You know what’s coming,” you said carefully, turning fully toward him, resting your hands against his chest, bunching them in the white linen of his shirt. “I know that there is no way, being who you are, that you don’t know what’s coming.”

“Y/N-”

“War, Lucien.” You said it without hesitation. Said it with such clarity and stability that there was no way it could be questioned again. “War is coming. Hybern is coming. I found a letter last night to Tamlin. It was from Hybern.”

Lucien’s eyes widened in shock, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as if you were an anchor in the weight of such a reveal. “Tamlin has been speaking to Hybern?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I know that Tamlin will soon choose what side of this war he will fight on, and it won’t be a choice based on what he believes is right.” You looked over your shoulder, up the stairs, as if you could see right into Tamlin’s room, even if the High Lord wasn’t there. “He’ll make a choice based on what he will benefit from it.”

“I can’t believe…” Lucien began, eyes blinking rapidly like he was trying, and failing, to make sense of what you were saying.

“I’ve made my choice already,” you said determinedly. “Now you need to make yours, Lucien. I won’t tell you what side to fight on, and I won’t try to sway you, but…when you do make that choice, when you do pick a side, try to make sure you’re on the right side of history. Because I love you Lucien, and I don’t want to see you make a mistake.”

With that, you leaned up, planted a hard-pressing kiss to his cheek, and turned for the stairs.

Tamlin’s tongue ran across the front of his teeth, sucking in harshly, enough that the air hissed. His eyes were tired, stinging with every blink. He tried to ignore the blood still crusted on his knuckles from where it had crumbled loose as his claws retracted - the blood of a doe killed that day, one that the beast had deemed needed for lunch, despite the taste of raw meat being less than delectable to Tamlin’s palate.

But it was neither the dried blood on his hands nor the lingering taste of the doe’s flesh that he was focused on. Rather, it was the letter that sat on his desk before him. A letter handed to him upon his arrival back to the manor by a smug-faced priestess, held between her long, pale fingers. A letter bearing the seal of the island to the West.

Hybern.

His eyes trailed over the words as he read them through again, the twelfth time in the past ten minutes. Certain phrases jumped out at him from the paper as if they had been enchanted to grasp his attention. ‘Mutual friend…a common cause…anything you want…rumours of a betrothed stolen…the end of Rhysand, High Lord of Night…meeting in Hybern in three days hence…’

So, Ianthe had been leaking information to persons outside of the Spring Court. Tamlin had suspected, but he had to admit that he was surprised that it had been Hybern. The connection between the little coastal island and his High Priestess was one that he had been aware of - their connection went back at least a century if he wasn’t mistaken - but for her to have been exposing his weaknesses to them…

But then again, Hybern were strong, and the King of Hybern was powerful. He remembered the stories he’d heard of that King during the first war, of entire armies slaughtered at his hand, of those he kept as prisoners of war from the legions that had fought against him, and had been tortured to the point that they gave up the names of even those they loved the most, if only to make it end. Of spells cleaved across the battlefield that hadn’t been wielded in thousands of years.

He’d met the king once before - only the once - at a ball his father had thrown. His father, who had fought alongside the King during that first war, who had become a consort and advisor to the King, had befriended him. Tamlin had been too young to really remember anything about him, other than the fact that he had trained…her. Amarantha.

Powerful. Amarantha had been powerful. Detestable. Hateful. Loathsome. Barbaric. But powerful, yes.

And Hybern had said, ‘Anything you want.’

There was only one thing Tamlin wanted. Only one person. Feyre returned to him, safe and unharmed. Alive. Free of the clutches of that Night Court heathens who were no doubt hurting her…

No, he wouldn’t think about what they were doing to her right now. He wouldn’t go down that road again. Not when he had this; a way forward. A possible way to get her back.

He was on his feet before he even realised it, pushing from his chair and strolling through the manor with more purpose than he’d had in a long time. It was late, perhaps around one o’clock, certainly after midnight, but he didn’t care. If he had to wake them up, then he would.

But, as he reached the foyer, he realised he didn’t have to. There, pushing her way through the patio doors, arms wrapped around herself and, to Tamlin’s fury, wearing a particular tunic that he himself had gifted to Lucien ten Solstice’s ago, which fell right to her thighs, was Y/N. He clenched his fists. Four paces behind her, looking as if he might be about to drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness for whatever reason - a reason that Tamlin surely didn’t care about one bit in that moment - was Lucien himself. Both fell short at the foot of the stairs as their eyes fell on him. He swallowed once, holding his chin high.

“Prepare yourselves, both of you,” he said, voice lower and fiercer than he intended, the ire of the beast still pumping through his veins, so soon after his transformation back to Fae. He cleared his throat, and continued, “We’re going to Hybern first thing tomorrow morning.”

Y/N let out what could only be described as a startled whine, and Lucien baulked in surprise behind her. “W-Why?” She asked.

“I believe they can help us,” Tamlin explained. “Help us bring Feyre home.”

“Tamlin, I don’t think-” Lucien began, but Y/N stepped forward, hands falling to her sides as she interrupted her lover.

“What about the other High Lords?” She asked. “Helion, and-and maybe Winter or Dawn? Must we go straight to Hybern?”

Tamlin cocked his head. “There are other options we can look into as well,” he said, glancing at Lucien over her shoulder, who simply straightened his back. “When we return from Hybern you’ll go straight to the Day Court, see if there is anything those scholars in their libraries can do to help us.”

Lucien nodded once, a low tilt of his head in confirmation. “Of course.” Tamlin was sure he saw the glare that his sister shot her lover over her shoulder.

“I’ve heard of Hybern,” Y/N said slowly, brows pinched. Her voice was an almost plead, one that broke Tamlin’s heart. How had they become this? Lying to each other, locking each other out. Once they had welcomed each other’s company, had sought out the other to confide in and ask for advice, but now…

‘It’s your own fault,’ Tamlin thought. ‘You let your fear control you. Let the memory of her dictate your actions. You did this.’

“They are a cruel people, ruled by an even cruller King,” Y/N continued; one hesitant step toward him, mirrored by Lucien behind her. “Are these really the types of people that we wish to ally ourselves with?”

She was right; of course she was right. She was clever, had always been clever. He had known that from the very first moment he’d met her. And this…she was telling him exactly what he already knew. Hybern was dangerous, a temperamental ally, one that would make deals and alliances to your face, and sharpen their sword ready to make their killing blow behind your back. But…

But Feyre. For Feyre he would do it. He would make that alliance, and when she was safe at home again, then he would find a way around it, find a way out of the deal he would make. If he even needed to make one at all. Perhaps… There was always the chance that another solution would be found. But to not even consider this one would be a mistake.

“It’s not your decision to make,” was all Tamlin replied, ignoring the way she recoiled slight at his harsh tone, one that he had hoped conveyed all of his ever-racing thoughts but only seemed to contain that cold disdain that he’d worn for so long now it had become like an armour to him. “We’ll speak with Hybern tomorrow and see what they can offer us, what we can offer them, if an alliance was to take place.”

“But-”

“The decision has been made,” he said again, fiercer, sterner. And with that, he turned on his heel, stalked back to his study.

He tried to ignore Lucien’s soft murmur of, “It’s just a meeting, Y/N. We’ll have other options later.” And the soft groan that Y/N released as she buried her face in his chest.

The walk back up the stairs was silent. Lucien kept his eyes trained on Y/N, on the way her hands wrung before her, her own eyes tracking her footsteps up each step. She was thinking, he had no doubt, that beautiful mind running through every possible course of action. Every possible outcome of that meeting the next day. Why Tamlin had invited her - when he had been so against the idea of Y/N being put in the path of danger every other time - Lucien wasn’t sure, but he knew that, whatever it was she’d been taught in the Night Court, she was honing those skills. Calling to those new strengths that she now possessed.

It wasn’t until they were standing in the hallway, her room on their right, his on their left, both loitering outside as if neither wanted to go in, that he finally spoke. Just as she turned, the words tumbled from his lips, a truth finally uttered, “I’m on whatever side you’re on. Whatever side keeps you safe.”

A glint in her eye, one that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. Was it relief, perhaps? Or maybe, as much as he hated the idea, cynicism? Incredulity? That he would do anything to keep her safe…

“You’ve chosen, then?” Was all she softly said. Lucien swallowed, even as she took a step back toward her bedroom door, even as he took a step closer to her, arms coming to rest on either side of her body, caging her in place.

“I’ve chosen,” he replied, voice low. He licked his lips as her scent engulfed him - jasmine and lavender, sweet and fresh. That scent, her scent, would be the death of him. She blinked up at him, and he wondered what was going through that mind of hers now, what she was considering, what she was hoping and surmising. He wanted to know, wanted to know every inch of her, even that mind. Every thought, every feeling, every emotion. He wanted to feel them all, to see them all, to think them all himself, as if they were one in the same.

Was that the mating bond? The bond that hadn’t snapped yet? Would that bind them together in that way, for eternity? He could only hope that when that bond did finally snap into place, he would know every inch of her.

“And what side did you choose?” She asked, her voice so quiet it was almost like the whisper of Spring breeze that fluttered across the night-kissed grounds outside.

He smiled softly, catching her eyes with his. Sparkles of glints in her eyes seemed to burst under his gaze, like starlight, pure and beautiful. “You don’t already know?”

“What side did you choose, Lucien?” She asked again, her voice a little firmer this time. She needed this answer, needed to know what side of this war he would fight on. Needed to know whether it would be by her side.

“You,” he said finally, drinking in her scent once more, filling that one word with such sincerity that he was sure it would have been less difficult to simply rip his heart out, still beating, and lay it bare for her in the palm of his hand. Because this was difficult for him - to love someone, to care so deeply that it hurt to know how fragile that love was, and yet be unable to give it up. He had loved, and he had lost. He had mourned a love so great, but this ran even deeper, this feeling that he had whenever he looked at Y/N. And he knew, no matter what, she was all that mattered in this world, in his world. She was everything. “I choose you, Y/N. And I will never stop choosing you.”

And with that, he closed the space between them, he tasted her sweet flavour, marred in wine that she had likely been drinking before her little walk in the garden, and fresh chilled wind. She tasted perfect.

His everything.

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland | @judig92 | @old-enough-to-know-better73 | @atrashsith | @chanaaaannel |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove | @lumos-barnes | @cumuluscranium | @dreamlandreader | @enrichmenttimeinmyenclosure | @rachelnicolee | @callmelovergirl |

#ACOTAR #ACOTAR fanfiction #ACOTAR fanfic #Lucien Vanserra #Lucien #Lucien ACOTAR #Lucien Vanserra fanfiction #Lucien Vanserra fanfic #Lucien fanfiction #Lucien fanfic #Lucien x reader #Lucien Vanserra x reader #Lucien x you #Lucien Vanserra x you #Lucien x y/n #lucien vanserra x y/n #rhysand #feyre #tamlin #cassian #azriel #amarantha #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #lucien smut #lucien vanserra smut #acotar smut

[thecreaturecodex]

Gun Elemental

Image by Nate Marcel, © Shield of Faith Studios

[Commissioned by Soluman Blevins. Twisted Menagerie Manual is one of the better monster books for post apocalyptic RPGs that I’ve read. It understands the assignment set forth by Gamma World: the post-apocalypse as a wacky anything goes romp. There are hybrid animals, gun toting furries, demon automobiles, clown priests of fast food hamburgers, etc. It’s a lot of fun, so I thank Soluman for pointing me in its direction in the first place. By the standards of the book as a whole, the elementals (data, debris and gun) are almost sedate.]

Gun Elemental CR 10 N Outsider (elemental) This creature is a three legged, asymmetrical mound made out of smooth metal. Covering it in layers are dozens of guns, all facing outward, of many shapes and sizes.

There is not an Elemental Plane of Guns. The gun elemental, therefore, is highly debated by those sages that know of its existence. Some claim that it is an interloper from another reality where firearms are an integral component of existence. Other sages instead maintain that gun elementals form in the dark corners of the Outer Planes, in the realms of gods of technology, warfare and death. Still others believe that gun elementals are an offshoot of fire or earth elementals (perhaps as a further modification of a presumed metal elemental).

Gun elementals live for combat, no matter the cause. When not fighting, they are usually engaged in target shooting, but this is still hazardous—gun elementals get so excited that they shoot wildly in all directions, catching nearby creatures with random, aimless bullets. If they face another gunslinger, they are especially dangerous. Not only is the gun elemental immune to bullets, it can steal the gun with a touch and absorb it in order to heal.

When a gun elemental is slain, its body collapses into a heap of scrap metal. Useable guns and ammunition can be salvaged from it, of a value equal to the standard treasure value of the encounter. This is a good opportunity for a GM to introduce more advanced firearms than normal to their campaign if they choose to, but could also be in the form of multiple early firearms.

Gun Elemental  CR 10 XP 9,600 N Large outsider (elemental, extraplanar) Init +9; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +15 Aura stray fire (100 ft., Reflex DC 21) Defense AC 23, touch 14, flat-footed 18 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +9 natural) hp 126 (12d10+60) Fort +9, Ref +13, Will +8 DR 10/adamantine; Immune elemental traits Defensive Abilities absorb gun, immune to projectiles Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee 3 slams +14 (1d8+3) Ranged 3 integrated machine guns +16 touch (2d8/19-20x4) Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. Special Attacks automatic fire, combined arms Statistics Str 16, Dex 20, Con 20, Int 9, Wis 11, Cha 11 Base Atk +12; CMB +17; CMD 32 Feats Deadly Aim, Improved Critical (machine gun), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot Skills Appraise +14, Knowledge (engineering) +14, Perception +15, Sense Motive +15, Stealth +16 Languages Terran Ecology Environment any land and underground Organization solitary, pair or battalion (3-6) Treasure standard (see above) Special Abilities Absorb Gun (Su) By touching a firearm as a standard action, a gun elemental can absorb it into its body, destroying the gun but healing damage. It heals a number of hit points equal to the base damage dealt by the gun. Magical or attended guns can resist this with a DC 16 Fortitude save. The save DC is Charisma based. Automatic Fire (Ex) As a full round action, a gun elemental can fire its guns automatically, attacking every foe in a 150 foot line. It rolls each attack roll separately, and each attack roll suffers a -2 penalty. It cannot add precision damage or extra damage from Vital Strike or similar feats to this, but does ignore concealment and mirror image effects. Roll to confirm each critical hit separately. Combined Arms (Ex) When making a full attack action, a gun elemental can attack with its melee and ranged natural weapons. Immune to Projectiles (Su) A gun elemental takes no damage from bullets, arrows, crossbow bolts and other physical projectiles. Explosives, such as an alchemist’s bomb, or magical or technological rays, effect a gun elemental normally. Integrated Machine Guns (Ex) A gun elemental’s machine guns are integrated weapons, meaning that they are treated as natural weapons and cannot make iterative attacks. The machine gun is an advanced firearm with a range increment of 150 feet. A gun elemental’s attacks with its integrated machine guns do not provoke attacks of opportunity. The gun elemental does not have a misfire chance with these guns, and is treated as having infinite ammunition. Stray Fire Aura (Ex) As a swift action, a gun elemental can fire off bullets in every direction. All creatures in a 100 foot radius must succeed a DC 21 Reflex save or take 1d8 points of damage. The save DC is Dexterity based.

#gun elemental #twisted menagerie manual #dungeon crawl classics #pathfinder 1e #commissions #elemental #gunslinger

[chefboyar-zeee]

A Star Is Born - Born That Way

Opening Thoughts/ Remarks

How is the film related to the social context of the country during the film’s production? 

The film takes place in post war America. Employment was shifting a lot post World war II, and a lot more money was being allocated to film and the world of Hollywood to hopefully allow people to escape their realities. Women were being made to be stars, so the plot of this film is a reflection of that, although the original was made almost 20 years prior. Although it is not a large plot point, segregation was being challenged and eventually destroyed during the mid 1950s during the release. There are Black characters, but only on camera when performing as part of an ensemble. There was also an emphasis on the nuclear family, encouraging people to conform to standards set by the American government. 

In what ways are the performance spaces separated from the narrative spaces in the film? 

They’re interconnected. Like discussed in the reading, Patullo talks about the integrated narrative and spectacle. Something that relates and drives the narrative and plot, but does not explicitly draw on the character’s film experiences.

“You gotta have me. Go with you. All the time” is the line Esther sings when escorting Norman off stage. I think this is very indicative of the relationship between the two throughout the film.

Esther sings this after meeting Norman and him offering her dinner to which she declined. The song isn’t from Esther to Norman but it seems rather fitting for their circumstances, especially after admitting that he is a nice man, drunk or sober - her being the only one who views him that way at this point in the film.

How is spectacle integrated into the film’s narrative? 

I think disorderly conduct is the film’s first use of spectacle in the way that it distracts from what audiences should be experiencing as a pleasant, entertainment. Instead of focusing on the performers, the audience in the film and of the film now shift their focus to a drunk man. This is that integration into the narrative. Esther as a character is definitely the most spectacle aspect of the narrative. Her life and career because something for audiences in the film and watching the film to gawk at, judge, and form opinions on. The choices she makes career wise and personality are intended to be analyzed and publicized to push her narrative and character development. The film relies on it. 

With the exception of the opening dance, Esther performs a lot in red, either symbolically showcasing her relationship with success or failure. Her signature lip is also red. Like in the film preview, she runs around pleading with producers, agents, and managers in a grey dress with red linings and runs into several rooms where she is turned away, wearing red and some neutral colors.

What is the role of dance and movement in relation to the film’s narrative and spectacle?  

Dance is less of a narrative for this film, but there is a lot of significance in the movement. When they are dancing, it usually is a matter of spectacle or to distract from what the characters are saying. This makes sense because although the dancing is the subject of that scene, the dancers aren’t the spectacle, the story in the song is. 

Pattulo says in the reading that the second type of musical attempts to bridge the gap between narrative and number, aiming for integration of spectacle into the film’s primary narrative structure. I believe, at times, this is the intention with the use of performances to demonstrate narrative. 

The first mention of dance and there’s a public performance, seems to be spectacle as there are women in pinked out traditional Native American regalia and feathered outfits. There is somewhat of a rodeo happening where people are riding, standing on, jumping around horses, along with dancers doing ballet, modern. The women are wearing red feathers and intense red makeup and cowboy hats. The chaos of the scene seems to be a proper introduction to Norman’s character and his restless and relentless energy and “do anything i want attitude” he is drunk and ensues chaos on stage for all the performers. Because he is a spoiled celebrity, he constantly gets enabled in excuse of him being that star. 

Large dance numbers with huge productions are used in this film as a spectacle to either project the mood of the scene or to distract, and somewhat, project the feelings of the characters at the moment.

In what ways does impossibility within the film ensure the audience escapes from reality?    

There is a segment of scenes where the director uses audio over literal film pictures. It occurs during moments between between when Esther and Norman meet. Upon researching, I think now it was because of the scenes being cut from the original film after re releasing in theaters a shorter version, by 30 minutes.

They use it very interestingly, and I am still uncertain about the intention here. For weeks, Esther finds another job while Norman leaves the set of his film in efforts to find her. I am gathering that time has stopped for these two. Although Esther feels this new fire under her ass, she’s without the man that put it there. Norman can not be satisfied until he has seen what’s become of her. 

Contradictory to the question, the film ensures the audiences in immersed into the reality of the movie/Hollywood industry. The film is strategic about showing the trials and tribulations of Hollywood as Esther is transitioning into her new role. She visibly struggles to adjust and acclimate to the speed of “the business.” they show a lot of set designing, and behind the scenes rehearsals. I suppose this shows the impossibility of their public lives and their relationship with their celebrity. As people, we tend to put celebrities in a box that they live in in our brains.

Discussion Questions

Does it feel backstage for this musical to use predominantly song over dance/movement to push the narrative?

Consider the film's portrayal of fame and celebrity culture in the 1950s. How does it reflect the societal attitudes towards stardom during that time? Are there parallels or differences with contemporary views on fame and spectacle?

Do the musical numbers serve as spectacle alone, or do they deepen our understanding of the characters and their emotional journeys?

Thank you for listening!!!

#oxyfilmmusical @theuncannyprofessoro

#Youtube

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ruki [BRUTE ENDING]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the forest

Vibora A: Go, go! Take down those shameless Vampires!!

Vibora B: Aim for their castle! Eden shall fall at our hands!!

Kino: Fufu...Look at that fighting spirit. Forget about those softie Vampires, the age of the vigorous Vibora is incoming!

Yuuri: ...I am surprised.

Kino: At what?

Yuuri: That you have chosen to aid the Vibora.

Kino: I mean, I had no other choice, did I? Those Mukamis got back on their feet after all. 

I thought they would develop a hatred towards Karlheinz and fall apart from the inside but my prediction was off.

Yuuri: You are trying to say that...given the current situation, you have no other choice but to go for a direct attack?

Well, either way, it is only a matter of time until it is game over for the Vampire Clan. 

After all, on our side we have Karlheinz’ very own Prince Zero...Kino, we  have you.

Kino: Exactly! You really are a natural at flattering me, Yuuri~

Ah, make sure to tell them to capture the Sakamakis and Mukamis alive. I’ll be the one to kill Sakamaki Shuu and steal his powers after all. 

Also...They can’t kill that girl either.

Yuuri: Eve...You mean?

Kino: She is the symbol of the Demon World. She will be necessary to me when I rise the throne as the new King, no?

I’m pretty sure she’ll try and fight back, but they can’t harm her, understood? She’ll be my bride after all. 

Yuuri: Roger.

Monologue

ーー The war between the Vampire and Vibora clans,

broke loose at last. 

It escalated into a large-scale conflict,

which would not be resolved in a day or two. 

In the beginning, the Vampire troops under the command of Shuu-san,

seemed to have the upper hand,

however, the fight became more intense with each passing day.

The tables were soon turned...

until over half of all Vampires had been killed,

and the remaining survivors were also seized by the Vibora. 

I was also taken captive,

alongside the Mukami and Sakamaki families,

but I was not thrown,

into the same dungeon as them. 

In the back of my mind,

I vaguely recalled the words Reiji-san had uttered,

during the middle of the war. 

ーー Their fighting strategy conflicts with the Vibora’s usual style of combat.

Exactly, in other words,

there was someone giving out orders to the Vibora behind the scenes.

Just like how Trismégiste,

manipulated the President of a certain country at some point. 

ーー ‘Hello there, my soon-to-be-bride.’

That man spoke those words with a sinister smile on his face,

as he called out to me. 

This man is Satan incarnate, 

I thought to myself.

ー The scene shifts to the dungeon

Yui: ーー Ruki-kun.

Ruki: ...! Yui!

So you were safe...I’ve been anxious this whole time since we got separated at some point. Are you harmed in any way?

Yui: I’m fine. What about you, are you injured...?

Ruki: Nothing serious, don’t worry. ...What about the others? 

Yui: Kino-kun told me...that they’re locked up somewhere in these dungeons.

Ruki: Kino...? ...I see. So he’s the one who pulled the strings behind our backs after all.

Yui: ...

Ruki: What’s wrong? ...Did something happen?

Yui: There’s something...I’d like to ask of you. ...Kill me, please.

Ruki: ...!? What are you saying...?

Yui: I’m begging you...

Ruki: What happened!? Tell me!

Yui: ...Kino-kun told me...To become his wife...

Ruki: ...Ah.

Yui: I didn’t want that...! However, if he were to promise to spare your life in return, I think I could have coped with it. 

However, he then said...that tomorrow, he would execute all of you in front of my eyes...!

Ruki: Excuse me...!? 

Yui: If you’re gone, I no longer see the point in being alive...So, please...Kill me. 

*Cling* 

Yui: A knife...I kept it hidden on me.

If you’ll die then...I want to join you in death. ...Please? 

Ruki: ...

...No. You should live. 

Yui: ...Ruki-kun!

Ruki: ...That’s probably what my past self would have said.

I would have probably preached to you...That one should not choose death when they still have the opportunity to live left. 

However, I’ve decided to stop living my life making only the ‘right’ decisions. Instead, I shall follow my heart.

Yui. I shall kill you right here, and die as well. ...That is what I want.

As if I would ever let you wed some other guy. I will prevent that from happening, even if it means having to kill you. 

I’m sorry for being such a greedy guy.

Yui: No...It’s fine. That’s what I want as well after all. 

Ruki: I’ll try and end your life in the least painful way possible, okay?

Yui: No, I don’t mind if it hurts. As long as it’s you...

Ruki: Hah...Don’t say things that’ll make me hesitate. I’m afraid I might go back on my decision.

These darned iron bars. I can’t even hold you during our final moments. 

Yui: This isn’t the end. It’s only a temporary goodbye. ...I’m sure we’ll meet again, won’t we?

Ruki: Yes...For sure.

Yui: Ruki-kun...I love you. Forever and ever, more than anyone else...

Ruki: Me too. I love you more than anyone else in this world...

Yui: ( This is for the best...Because like this, I can belong to Ruki-kun forever... )

Ruki: ...Let’s meet again someday, Yui.

*STAB*

*SPLATTER*

*Thud* 

Yui: ...

Ruki: ...So she’s gone? Wait for me. I’ll follow suit.

If we are to be reborn, let’s promise to find happiness together next time, okay? ーー Until then...

*STAB*

*SPLATTER*

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lerukiending3

[royaidaydreams]

Fascism in Fullmetal Alchemist

So I recently started watching Spy x Family, and observing the sexism within the narrative through the lens that the sexism (the pressure Yor faces to be a housewife, cook, clean, complete domestic duties, be part of a nuclear family, and please her male family member) is intentional due to the fascist society the characters live in (instead of existing as a flaw I side-eye hard in the writing).

My husband and I started discussing the presence of fascism in other anime and of course we brought up Fullmetal Alchemist. And I’ve never seen anyone talk about it before. So ... let’s talk about it.

First off, let’s define fascism. Simplified, fascism is “a governmental system led by a dictator having complete power, forcibly suppressing opposition and criticism, regimenting all industry, commerce, etc., and emphasizing an aggressive nationalism and often racism.”

So know we know what we’re talking about. Good.

The fascism in FMA lurks in the background instead of being a central to the narrative. First and foremost, Fullmetal Alchemist is a character and action driven story. Dual protagonists Ed and Al don’t care about the politics within the government and military. They are too busy running around having adventures while stopping the homunculi. Deuteragonist Roy Mustang (and his team) care far more about the inner workings of the government and military, with Roy aiming one day to become the country’s leader and separate the government from the military by returning power to the parliament. Roy often schemes and makes underhand plays to gain political power by befriending Generals Grumman and Raven, using his reputation as a colonel and state alchemist to advance his career while at the same time using his reputation as a lazy playboy to seem harmless to those in power. In the climax of the series he successfully completes a coup d'etat!

So while Fullmetal Alchemist dabbles in politics, it isn’t a politically driven story at its core. The politics within the military of Amestris just aren’t the focus of the narrative.

Therefore the fascism is largely subtextual. FMA doesn’t set out to make any political commentary or align with any real world time periods and governments. Yet, fans can easily compare it to Germany in WWII. The 03 anime doesn’t even make the comparison, it just straight up puts the characters in Nazi Germany!

Here’s a list of characteristics of fascism. Below I’ll mention the characteristics that exist in the universe of FMA. Then, I’ll mention the characteristics that aren’t seen in FMA.

Characteristics of fascism that exist within Fullmetal Alchemist:

Powerful and Continuing Nationalism

So this characteristic relies more on subtext than direct examples within the text. But Amestris is undeniably nationalistic in the way it goes to war with its neighboring countries. It contains a strong army and accumulates power through brute force.

Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights

Two words: Ishvalan genocide. The military also uses alchemical experimentation on its own members to create chimera (Greed’s posse and  Darius, Hienkel, Jerso, and Zampano). The scientist in charge of the Immortal Soldiers says to Olivier, “the military doesn’t care about ethics.” He’s right. It absolutely did not.

Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause

The Ishvallan people are the main scapegoat of Amestris, but neighboring countries Drachma, Creta, and Aerugo are labeled enemies whom are all in military conflicts with Amestris.

Supremacy of the Military (junta)

This is the MOST OBVIOUS. One of the protagonists and the deuteragonist work for the military. The government of Amestris is controlled by the military. This makes it military junta (learned a new vocab word today!), the definition of which is a government led by a committee of military leaders.

Controlled Mass Media

Now, this isn’t explicitly mentioned anywhere in FMA. But when Roy completes his coup, the most effective part of his plan is taking over the radio station and controlling the narrative during the Promised Day.

Obsession with National Security

In the north, Olivier, Miles, Bucaneer, and all other the Briggs soldiers are  obsessed with border security and finding spies from Drachma. Completely obsessed.

Labor Power is Suppressed

This is really only in FMA’s manga chapter (and 03 episode) about Youswell. Yoki tries to suppress the mine workers and hoard all of the wealth and power of the mining town for himself, but he’s so pathetic that he fails spectacularly.

Rampant Cronyism and Corruption

Cronyism is the appointment of friends and associates to positions of authority, without proper regard to their qualifications. The senior staff, like General Raven, work with Bradley and Father despite knowing their nation’s leader is a homunculous. We don’t know to what extent they may have earned their positions of power by agreeing with the Fuhrer and Father’s plan rather than from merit.

Characteristics of fascism that DO NOT exist within Fullmetal Alchemist:

Rampant Sexism

Women like Riza Hawkeye, Maria Ross, and General Armstrong seem to be a minority in the military, but they do exist. And they are officers of varying ranks. They are never shown facing sexism from their peers or superior officers except for one incident with General Armstrong. She coerces information out of General Raven by tricking him through a demur act and mentioning her biological clock and the fact that she’s growing older without bearing children. He touches her without her consent. However, narratively, General Armstrong is framed as having the upper hand in this encounter by tricking Raven and ultimately killing him for his unwanted behavior toward her.

The only unintentional sexism in the series is the lack of female soldiers participating in the battles during the Promised Day.

Religion and Government are Intertwined

Two religions are mentioned in FMA worshipping the gods Leto and Ishvalla, but neither are intertwined with the government. In fact, it is not known if Amestris has a national or majority religion.

Corporate Power is Protected

No corporate power is ever mentioned by any of the characters.

Disdain for Intellectuals and the Arts

Interestingly, alchemists could be considered intellectuals as they study a specific science and spend years studying and perfecting their expertise. The military recruits them, especially those most dangerous and deadly. Intellectuals in the traditional sense, academics and professors, are not shown. We do not know if they even exist in FMA. Nor do we see the arts. However, their non-existence could speak for itself and imply that these people have been silenced by the government.

Obsession with Crime and Punishment

Ironically, the only two characters obsessed with crime and punishment (Roy and Riza), are the ones that want to be face punishment for their (war) crimes. None of the characters discuss criminal activities or punishments. The Maria Ross incident might be as close as the series comes, but the narrative frames her lack of trial and hasty arrest as unusual and other characters condemn Mustang’s “punishment” as extreme.

Fraudulent Elections

There are no elections, fraudulent or real, shown in FMA, But that’s likely because the current government would never allow any.

In conclusion, what does this all mean? Well, I don’t really know. Someone more adept with political science can answer that. But I think it is a fascinating lens in which to view the worldbuilding in Fullmetal Alchemist, one I haven’t seen discussed before. Fascism exists in FMA, but it doesn’t include all of the necessary characteristics, which is pretty interesting. I’d love to see fanfic take these ideas further in depth, whether to lean into making Amestris a fully fascist state or allowing our favorite characters to rebuild Amestris and sever the country from it’s fascist regimes in order to make it more democratic.

So consider some of these ideas and how they apply to the Fullmetal Alchemist characters the next time you want a thought experiment or need some worldbuilding inspiration.

#FMA #worldbuilding #meta #fullmetal alchemist

[gintrinsic-writing]

That Poor Bastard Ganon -- Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

lol i was like “i want to write time’s pov, but maybe it would make more sense to do sky or ganon again...” Then literally ALL of you voted Time.  CW mild violence. 

--

The fire dissipated, its many red tongues doused by air. Under the last, spluttering wisps, Sky fell on one knee, holding the Master Sword against his chest like a shield. His entire right side appeared burned, clothes hanging off his reddened body. His fingers were worse; what little skin remained was singed and oozing. Every breath he took sounded like a gasp. 

And all Time could think was, I was almost too late.

He threw himself at his oldest enemy with a yell, gritting his teeth as their blades clashed. Sparks flashed between them, and Ganondorf returned his fervor with a pained, guttural howl. With every passing second, blood stained the sand beneath Ganondorf’s feet. Time only regretted that his attack hadn’t severed the bastard’s spine. 

“Filth,” Ganondorf hissed, using his superior height and weight to push Time away. Once they were separated, he didn’t pursue, choosing instead to stalk back and forth from a distance. A staticky light followed his body like an afterimage. 

Time met Ganondorf step for step, careful not to leave Sky exposed. Wide gold eyes tracked his every move, amber swirls full of hatred and wariness. 

“Time,” Sky said, an odd note in his voice. “Time, wait.”

“If I don’t finish this quickly, he could transform,” Time answered with forced calmness. If that happened, or if Sky fell unconscious… He didn’t want to think about it. “Try your best to stay awake. The others will be here soon.” He hoped. 

“No,” Sky said. “Wait. He’s afraid—”

“Good,” Time answered coldly, leveling his biggoron sword. “Let him be.” 

Ganondorf leapt back with a curse when Time charged, barely ducking in time to keep his head. He delivered a slash of his own, but his footwork was sloppy, and he grunted in pain when their blades clashed again. Time was too experienced to feel any sort of satisfaction over that. Not yet.  

In Time’s periphery, he saw Sky struggling to rise. Ganondorf shot him a panicked look, and the air around him visibly shimmered with heatwaves. But before he could attack, before the sand was met with even more blood, another voice suddenly cried out. 

“Ganon!”

To Time’s horror, a young child stood at the foot of the canyon, her blue eyes framed by short, golden curls. She clutched the reins of two horses, looking impossibly small against the dunes behind her. Even from a distance, it was easy to spot the glow of the Triforce against the back of her sun-kissed hand. 

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

Ganondorf sprinted toward the girl, shouting, “Zelda!” Despite his wound, he covered the distance in long strides, reaching out with a large, threatening hand. 

Time felt his heart land somewhere in his throat. Dropping his sword, he reached for his longshot. Steadied his grip. Took aim. Exhaled. Fired. 

The sound of metal tearing through flesh was almost enough to drown out Sky’s startled, “Wait!”

Ganondorf dropped to the ground with a horrendous yelp. His face paled when he looked down at his leg, where the hook of the longshot was embedded in his thigh. “M-monster,” he moaned, voice cracking on the word. He almost sounded afraid. 

Time didn’t let himself process any of it, too amped on adrenaline and the desperation to end Ganon before he could end the world. He reeled in the longshot, watching grimly as the slack was taken up and Ganondorf’s leg gushed with blood. He knew it wasn’t enough, knew that it was only a matter of time before— 

Sky’s hand landed on Time’s shoulder. He smelled like singed hair and meat. “Stop. This is a mistake.”

Time blinked at him, baffled by those words, just as Ganondorf yanked on the longshot’s chain. 

“Zelda!” Ganondorf shouted, struggling to drag himself toward the young girl. Blood began to pool in the sand around him. “Run! Run now!”

Zelda dropped the horses’ reins, running toward the King of Evil as fast as her little legs could take her. “I won’t!” she cried, stumbling. “I won’t leave you!”

“Zel,” Ganondorf said—no, pleaded. “For once in your life, listen to me!” Red and gold light began sparking across his skin. All around them, the ground shifted and groaned. And still, he tried to pull himself free, jerking Time forward with the strength of his will. 

Then, to Time’s great relief, the others arrived.

#ganon get WRECKED #poor guy lol #lu time #lu sky #lu fic #ganondorf #zelda #might be one more part? #maybe two #gintrinsic writing

[princesssarisa]

Sleeping Beauty Spring: "Britannica's Fairy Tales from Around the World: Sleeping Beauty" (1990 animated short)

Britannica's Fairy Tales from Around the World (sometimes shortened to Britannica's Tales Around the World) is a direct-to-video animated series produced in the early '90s by Encyclopedia Brittanica, Inc. Its aim was to teach children about the different cultural variations of fairy tales. Each installment paired an adaptation of a popular European fairy tale with two other shorts based on similar tales from other countries. Sleeping Beauty was paired with retellings of The Petrified Palace from Bangladesh and Sun, Moon, and Talia from Italy. Because I've chosen only to review Sleeping Beauty adaptations based on Perrault and the Grimms' versions, and because each short can be viewed separately on YouTube, I'll only review the 12-minute short based on Perrault's tale.

This Sleeping Beauty stands out from others because it is indeed based on Perrault; so far, it's the only adaptation I've seen to follow Perrault and continue the story after Sleeping Beauty and the Prince are married. Accordingly, the more familiar first half of the story is covered quickly. It opens at the baby Princess's christening, where seven good fairies – beautiful ladies, each with a different color for her gown and skin – each bestow their gifts. Of course the feast is interrupted by the Evil Fairy, a purple-skinned, red-winged creature who bears a resemblance to Demona from Gargoyles. But the lilac-clad Queen of the Fairies softens her curse from death to sleep and adds that the entire court will sleep with her. Sixteen years later, the Princess is frolicking through the castle with friends, when a new room magically appears inside a tower – in it, of course, is a spinning wheel, and the curse comes to pass. Then, a hundred years later, the Prince is traveling with his mother and rides forth alone to explore the briars surrounding the castle. It doesn't take him long to discover Sleeping Beauty and break the spell.

At this point, the narrator tells us that most people think the Prince and Sleeping Beauty lived happily ever after, but the truth is different. After their marriage, nine years pass, during which the Prince becomes king and Sleeping Beauty gives birth to two children, Dawn and Day. Then, as in Perrault's tale, the young King is forced to go to war, leaving his wife, children, and elderly mother behind. But the rest of the story plays out differently than Perrault's second half. In this version, the King's mother isn't an ogress who tries to eat her grandchildren and daughter-in-law. Instead, the Evil Fairy comes back, now more feral and animalistic than she was a century earlier. With a magic potion, she transforms the King's mother into a "bugaboo" – a large beetle-like insect – and assumes her likeness. Then she gives the potion to a servant, ordering him to transform Sleeping Beauty, Dawn, and Day into bugaboos too. But he hides them instead, transforming two cats and a rat in their place. Before long, however, the Fairy discovers the trick, and she boils a cauldron of bugaboo potion, then tries to hypnotize Beauty and the children to make them step into it. But just in time, the King comes home from the war, and he battles the Fairy long enough for Beauty to snap out of her hypnosis; she then saves her husband by overturning the cauldron, so that it falls on the Fairy, crushing her to death. The rat, the cats, and the King's mother are restored to their true forms, and at last everyone does live happily ever after.

This isn't the highest quality animated short – that I'll admit. The animation has a strange glossy look, and the characters tend to have large, slightly creepy mouths and to stare directly at the viewers in an unnerving way. But the narration and voice acting are generally fine, apart from a few flat line deliveries, and the music, drawn from Tchaikovsky's ballet score, is effective. And I do enjoy finally seeing a Sleeping Beauty adaptation that includes Perrault's second half of the story, even if it is considerably altered.

This isn't an essential Sleeping Beauty by any means, but it's worth seeing at least once.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @thealmightyemprex, @faintingheroine, @reds-revenge, @comma-after-dearest, @paexgo-rosa, @themousefromfantasyland, @the-blue-fairie

#sleeping beauty spring #sleeping beauty #fairy tale #britannica's fairy tales from around the world #animated series #animated short #1990

[snarky-art]

Mythix

Mythix is made from 7 magical beings bringing together and unifying their powers to ensure a tome with the ability to hold all knowledge of magic (with a focus on the lesser recorded forms deemed “less important” by scholarly institutions) from past to present and into the future could be preserved, with a heavy emphasis on folk and cultural stories, and that, should something pose a great enough threat, could be sealed away in a separate realm (more of a pocket dimension really) to keep The Magical World safe.

There are a few places that act like prisons of sorts throughout the magical realm (The Omega Dimension for example) since lots of different beings have their own ideas of how to go about things.

This was a group that acted as their own delegation of sorts for the “Outer Realm” of The Magical World (the area with the least present magic in the magical universe. Earth is located just on the ridge of it) since they felt that very little care was given to the struggles of those in that area by those in power.

The attempt to make The World of the Legendarium was successful but shaky and could be described by some as not fully realized. This is what resulted in the side effect of those who stay in it for too long ceasing to be able to return to the real world outside of it.

A valiant effort but much more “wild” in the sense that the magic is a little erratic and not very easy to control or work with and command due to it holding together a whole separate world taking a large amount of energy and being super unstable already.

The best and most effective way to do anything with it is by using The Ancestral Wands, the aids that the beings who made it used to siphon their magic through it to make it more concentrated and easier to control. As a result the wands resonate with it better since they’re what created it.

Any being who uses The Ancestral Wands resonates with the magic of the wand which holds a large chunk the original magic used to create The Legendarium, that magic left as a side effect of so much concentrated power being conducted through it. This magic envelops a beings magical core so that when one’s own magic is used it goes through a kind of filter to allow it to sync up with The Legendarium and it’s energy allowing for easier use and control.

The beings transformation is based off of their personal core magic resonating with a legend, story, and/or figure (sometimes a combo), usually based on the planet of origin or culture that magic is associated with as recorded in The Legendarium. As always personality is also taken into account with this.

The Legendarium itself was kept on Earth as it’s creation was considered controversial by the scholarly institutions due to its purpose, those who made it, it being done outside of their institution, and the general bigotry of academia. When it proved more unstable and iffy in its abilities, it was considered too unstable by them to be allowed to stay so available to beings, and it was demanded to be handed over for either destruction or to be permanently sealed away.

The delegation that made it obviously didn’t want a group of people in an institution that actively worked to stifle and oppress their goals of preservation and activism to hold it, so they chose instead to keep it on Earth, a place those in power considered so backwater and weak it either wasn’t worth going to to retrieve because of its location and more importantly, in their minds, didn’t have enough powerful magic to be able to really do anything with it.

As an additional note, Roxy is going to be included in this one. The reason for this is as I mentioned earlier, this is a transformation that stems from a group of beings aiming to advocate for lesser cared about places with an emphasis on the “outer worlds” from the “Outer Realm,” Earth being apart of this. An Earth witch was apart of the 7 beings that made The Legendarium and this is considered a great point of pride for magical beings on the planet, especially The Fae there, as they have a harder time participating in their practices and presenting as non magical to those who shunned magic. As heir to them, Roxy being apart of this is considered almost a thing of birthright, as a way to say despite all the hardships magical beings have been through and all the attempts made to try and stifle and wipe them out, they have prevailed and their culture and people are resilient and alive.

#winx club #winx #mythix #transformations #lore #worldbuilding #winx club rewrite #winx club redo #winx club reboot #winx club remake

[oddygaul]

LAIKA movies

Ira and I visited Seattle at the end of August, and happened upon the Laika exhibit at the Museum of Pop Culture. In the exhibit were tons of the sets, models, armatures, and clothing from all their movies. Seeing it all made me realize that for how much I’ve thought of Laika as an amazing studio and how impressive I thought Coraline and Kubo were… I’d actually only ever seen those two. So we decided to get caught up on the rest together, in release order.

ParaNorman

I felt nothing about this movie

The Boxtrolls

Damn, this one was great. I’m trying to remember why I never watched it; I think I must’ve just read the name and blurb and was uninterested. Clearly I never saw a trailer for it, because the setting and designs are gorgeous and incredibly unique. I love the fucked-up, stupid Cheese England setting, I love all of the costume design, I love the Boxtrolls themselves and how they move (especially the tandem platforming in the intro).

This one did strike me how it felt like a bridge between the more character-focused, close-in shots of Coraline (and ParaNorman) and the wide, sweeping landscape shots featured more heavily in Kubo (and Missing Link). While Coraline certainly had its large setpieces (the house is obviously iconic), it feels like this is the turning point where they started working more on showing off huge vistas to lend a larger sense of place to their worlds. The mountain cave Kubo and his mom live in was my ur-example of this; the lingering establishing shot of Cheesebridge from Boxtrolls now supplants it.

One of the things that stood out to me in the exhibit that I hadn’t considered much before was all the clothing. I guess, somehow, I imagined they were just part of the model, like you’d do in claymation… but in fact each character has separate, fully sewn and handcrafted outfits that are put onto and worn by the armatures. Seeing it in person was pretty incredible; there’s tons of tiny details nearly too small to see, let alone create, and lots of them seemed to be made with custom fabric / textiles to get the exact shades and patterns they wanted. With that fresh and front of mind, watching this movie was honestly pretty staggering. The texturework alone on the outfits of all the nobility and the snatchers…

Deborah Cook is the head costume designer at Laika, which I’m writing down here in hopes that I remember it.

Kubo and the Two Strings

I saw this one when it first came out, actually, and was somewhat disappointed. I think that while I liked the aesthetic, animation and action, I felt let down by the narrative and writing - I remember coming out of the movie thinking that every joke fell flat, all of the dialogue felt slightly off, and the wider narrative didn’t conclude in a way that felt particularly satisfying.*

Holy shit, it hit different seven years later.

I started to crack within the first five minutes, as Kubo tends to his catatonic mother who can’t even feed or clothe herself on her own anymore. Then, as night falls, she becomes alert enough to talk to him again, even if some of the words are wrong, even if she’s forgotten a thing or two, even if she can’t quite finish some of her sentences… and then as quickly as the lucidity came, it goes again, leaving her incommunicable. Why yes, certainly, as someone who in that seven year time gap has spent a lot of time dealing with a parent with Alzheimer’s, yes, that scene certainly did have a wholly different connotation to it, and yes, it certainly did immediately make me cry before even establishing much of the story’s premise.

The dialogue landed quite differently to me this time around, as well as the tone of the movie in general. I think my first impression may have just been an expectations issue; obviously animation doesn’t (and shouldn't) have to be aimed solely at younger audiences, but in western productions it almost always is, so I think I went in expecting a certain amount of levity. Instead, the movie is just intentionally pretty god damn serious the whole time. Monkey is grim nearly the whole movie - her introduction scene consists of her giving Kubo a sharp reality check and telling him there’s no more room for fuckups, and any jokes she gets to make are usually at someone else’s expense. Beetle has some great line deliveries that break the tension, but the jokes themselves are never laugh out loud funny.

The thing is, this kinda just makes sense - the leads are in a bad fucking situation and the movie takes it seriously. The movie is about Kubo, a child, who above all else Must Not Go Outside at night because his grandfather ripped his eyeball out and wants to rip out the other one, Going Outside Anyway and getting his entire village destroyed as a result. After spending the entire journey with Monkey and Beetle, he realizes they’re his parents only moments before they are killed in front of his eyes. The movie tries to end on an uplifting note by swelling the music and presenting an uplifting voiceover, but there’s really no getting around the fact that the closing shot is Kubo standing alone next to the ghosts of his two dead parents. What the fuck?

With this in mind, the tone and dialogue really worked for me this time. Monkey is dead serious, because she knows she’s dying and she has one last chance, with the time limit measured in days, to get her only son to safety. With that context, the stern demeanor, slight remove and awkward clip of their interactions fully click into place, and now I mostly just find myself impressed by how serious and genuine they managed to keep this story and still get it distributed.

*Well, and I also remember thinking it was criminal how little shamisen was actually used in the score, given that the main character is literally a goddamn shamisen bard - and despite acknowledging that it managed to be enough to be the reason I want to learn shamisen, I still fully stand by that criticism today. On rewatch, I will at least grant it that the Regina Spektor cover over the credits fucking slaps.)

Missing Link

After loving Boxtrolls and Kubo so much, I was really excited to get to this one and see what the most cutting-edge release of Laika’s had in store. Ultimately… disappointing?

After the absolutely killer opening sequence, I was all-in on the character of Sir Lionel Frost - from the intense Loch Ness Monster setpiece, the vibe I caught was a smarmy, uncaring exterior covering a heart of gold, a man who would fight through hell for his comrades despite his faults. Unfortunately, he then unrelentingly spends the entire rest of the movie being an intolerable piece of shit to every single person he’s around. It feels like a lot was cut from this movie, or it had some issues in the editing stage, because the character arcs felt more like character right angles, and none of the reconciliations or growth moments felt especially earned or natural to me.

Also, I found it odd to release a movie in 2019 about a racist, English colonialist explorer trope character and not really interrogate it much. It felt like they flirted with it a bit, with some of the monologues we get from the Society Chairman indicating he’s even worse than our lead, but the movie making Frost look good by comparison still doesn’t leave him looking especially good. I seriously felt like I was teleported into a movie from the 80s while watching the dinner scene with the yak cookies…yikes.

The action sequence in the tilting boat was great, though.

Unrelated to any specific movie, this was also the first time I really dug into Laika’s past as a studio and how exactly Travis Knight came to be CEO. I was previously aware that Travis Knight kinda forced his way in there via wealth, but figured, hey, he does seem to at least be a decent animator, and I have to applaud one of The Rich using their fortune to keep an incredibly niche artform alive rather than the multitudinous bullshit they usually use it for. After learning Laika was essentially formed from the ashes of the studio of one of claymation’s pioneers in a somewhat forceful takeover, though…

Well, I think the upshot for me is still largely the same, but it definitely does make me feel some sort of way now seeing Travis Knight be the one spotlighted in all the post-credits timelapses and featurettes, that’s for sure.

#will's media thoughts / virtual brain repository #movies #the boxtrolls #kubo and the two strings #missing link #paranorman

[option-monad]

so instead of writin my thesis i am thinking about disco elysium’s stated aim being absolutely impossible and the game trying for it anyway

everyones seen that gif of kurvitz talking about how like. games can sort of represent your (character’s) body in some way or another with a big pile of statistics and having those statistics rise and fall and ultimately constrain your decision making, and trying to replicate that with the way that your (character’s) mind is also a thing to some extent outside their (your) control and this also constrains what you’re allowed to do, right. and the goal (or, one of the goals) of disco elysium is to bring that to the fore, to represent kind of explicitly the gap between intellectual/academic intent and the reality of having an irrational animal brain inside your skull. and this comes up, obviously, most directly in terms of dialog choices -- harry can’t choose when he does or doesn’t freak out any more than he can choose to gain or lose health, and while you can influence the makeup of those mental stats you can’t really remove the fact that they’re a constraint to begin with.

but then the problem that you invariably run into, that has become such a taken-for-granted piece of game design knowledge that it doesn’t even register as a fact any more, is that the player is pretty much invariably going to be within a fairly narrow range of emotional states and those are never going to reflect what harry is going through, and that there’s a physical component to those emotional states that cannot ever be properly relayed. we can, as players, understand “losing hp” as a negative stimulus in that it eventually leads to a game over and should be avoided, but we’re never going to make decisions that actually revolve around avoiding physical pain the way we would in real life. we can approach physical injury from an entirely rational perspective when it isn’t happening to us, but there generally aren’t videogames in which the kind of biological decision-making override associated with being in pain is a factor in the way we approach the game world. and this is baked into how game characters act, because otherwise the gap between what our character is thinking and what we’re thinking becomes too large. horror games are the only genre i can think of which manage to tiptoe around this by combining fear + shock responses to intentionally put the player in an irrational state of mind and bring the player as close to diegetic decision-making as possible, but they manage this through a very specific bag of tricks which aren’t broadly applicable to something like a crpg. if a character’s actions in a crpg became suddenly wildly constrained by stress or pain, the player deals with an entirely different sudden loss of control. actions that are in one setting totally in line with human cognition are, from the player’s perspective, out of line with human cognition, and every time you create a gap like that you remind the player that there’s an artificial interface between them and the game world, and the “immersion” (for lack of a better word), or the player’s positioning of themselves as an actor within the game world, disappears. they may understand the character’s position, but they stop “being” the character and start “commanding” the character (and the being/commanding distinction is on its own a fascinating one in the context of videogames, but story-driven ones largely prioritise being).

but then you encounter disco elysium, where there are plenty of times when harry is just going to lose his shit at stimuli that just don’t arouse the same response in an observer, and you get the same sudden disconnect. and that exact moment is i think where disco elysium drops the ball sometimes, specifically when it offers you the “all these dialog options are insane” dialog option. because it strips away the ability to role play as harry losing his gourd, since harry’s gourd is still intact enough for him as an entity separate from you, him as the entity that cobbles together the list of things he can try to say and you as the thing that clicks them, to recognise how weird this is. and that’s not how my brain works in situations of extreme stress at all, i freak out and decide to pick a dumb thing from my list of dumb things long, long before i look back at that action and think “wait, this is silly”. but in the moment where harry is about to say something dumb, i’m thinking “oh no, that is silly”. so it’s almost as though they’re trying to close that gap a little, but they’re mostly just... pointing it out.

and the thing is, the notion of harry as “you” is reinforced constantly. everything from the perspective to the second-person narration to the marketing materials puts you squarely in the “being” end of the being/controlling spectrum. this is pretty much par for the course in crpgs, because they’re based on the tabletop roleplaying tradition in which the player/character gap is often negligible, and that’s part of why crpg (and, generally, fantasy) characters don’t act remotely like human beings. but then disco elysium is also deeply humanist, or naturalist, or however you want to say that everyone in it acts like a human. and it tries very, very hard to get across this gameplay idea in which harry is a flawed human, and you are also a flawed human, and you’re very similar... but it tries to bring harry to you instead of bringing you to harry. which is an understandable choice, because bringing you to harry is basically impossible, but going in the other direction creates this very strange experience at times.

#disco elysium #long post #long boring post

[thezanyarthropleura]

The Muan-Atlantean War

And what exactly is Wold Newton?

Different sort of Gamera March post today, and a history lesson in digging through a bunch of websites I found probably 10-15 years ago that permanently influenced my take on kaiju films and how I write about them.

Readers of some of my own kaiju fandom stories (barely worth mentioning here considering the weight of what I’m about to talk about) may have noticed hints of a concept I’ve been recently building up to tackling, the origins of various Toho and Daiei kaiju and how they relate to two warring ancient civilizations, Toho’s Muans and Daiei’s Atlanteans. The story of how we got to this point begins in 1795 - yes, 1795. Really.

The Wold Newton family concept, per Wikipedia, is effectively a study of fictional universes, with the aim to figure out which of those universes might actually be the same universe after all. This exists largely outside of official crossovers, although those are often considered as evidence. The premise is basically “if it fits, it’s canon, and if it doesn’t fit, some version of it might still be canon.” AKA the absolute bane of a certain no-fun-allowed type of kaiju fan that I probably annoyed the hell out of in my younger days and remain damn proud of it. (/hj)

The concept dates back to a real meteorite that fell in the town of Wold Newton, Yorkshire in 1795, and Phillip José Farmer, a later American writer who proposed the hypothesis that many improbably strong or intelligent fictional heroes and villains are in fact descendants of two families irradiated by said meteorite. It’s since evolved to be more centered on the universe-connecting I’ve described above, but the idea of the two families seems to still be mentioned on occasion.

(Important note: Wold Newton historians thematically phrase their findings in a way that describes fictional events/characters as if they were part of a real history and dismiss contradictions between the included stories as ‘errors.’ This is not a slight against established canon or willful misinterpretation of official material, but a device meant to imply the official material is an erroneous or exaggerated retelling of the ‘true’ events as present in the Wold Newton Universe)

Which brings us to the first leg on the journey to how this is at all relevant to Gamera, the article Prehistoric Survivors in the Pacific by Mark Brown. This an oft-cited article by later kaiju writers, seeming to be the first ever suggestion that the people of Mu are responsible for the prehistoric creatures encountered by modern explorers in various fictional island adventure stories. I’ll note here that this article actually has nothing to do with Toho’s Muans, or the film Atragon, or any other kaiju films for that matter. It instead concerns other fictional depictions of the real-world hypothesis of the continent of Mu/Lemuria (proposed to explain similar lemur fossils appearing on continents separated by water and since discredited with the discovery of plate tectonics).

Among those writers that expanded on Mark Brown’s concept and adapted it to kaiju films, I specifically bring up Den Valdron and Chris N., who have done much of the most creative and scientific writing on Godzilla, Gamera, and their ilk that I have ever encountered - everything from hypothesizing what Gorath really is in true astronomical terms to a personal favorite wild theory that connects every giant spider that’s appeared in every film ever.

In constructing a kaiju universe to tell stories in, these following articles in particular are those I remembered best and find most relevant to revisit (note that all these links are to an old Angelfire site, The Godzilla Saga, and were written decades ago by Godzilla fans from decades ago, so may contain terms or phrasing that didn’t quite age well. Also note that the timeline is very, very long and may require several full days’ worth of reading to get through, if one feels inclined to make the attempt. The first article sums up the main concepts in a more digestible format, however):

THE ALIENS OF THE SHOWA TOHO UNIVERSE: COMMON ORIGINS? by Den Valdron, edits and supplements by Chris N.

GODZILLA SHOWA SERIES TIMELINE by Chris N.

To summarize, most if not all of the science fiction aspects of the Toho universe are ultimately derived from the ancient Muans - the kaiju are genetically-engineered bioweapons bred for war, the alien races are the descendants of Muan space explorers, the advanced level of modern human technology (Maser tanks, moon base in 1999, etc.) is a result of studying technology left over from the Mysterian invasion in 1957.

Likewise, one can assume similar, Atlantean-related origins for the Daiei science fiction elements (although I personally posit that the aliens seen in Showa Gamera are not actually living Atlanteans, more on that in my upcoming Gamera vs. Guiron review).

That said, these timelines for the most part do not seem to endorse putting the Toho and Daiei films and elements in the same universe. Each one only requires that the other ancient civilization exist as a rival to justify the creation of kaiju, not that that other civilization also created kaiju or that any of them survived to the present day. They also most certainly do not endorse my personal attempts to create a timeline not only involving Showa Toho and Showa Daiei, but one that includes the rest of the Godzilla and Gamera films including all five Godzilla Millennium series timelines (GMK and Final Wars need to be heavily modified), GODZILLA(1998) and its animated series, and perhaps most significantly, the Rebirth of Mothra trilogy, whose elements give some insight to events of Earth’s distant past before the Muans and Atlanteans.

But my most obvious Wold-Newtonian element may actually be the recent inclusion of a version of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in this universe - because the operative question isn’t “Why would they be there?” it’s “Why wouldn’t they be there?” There are actually quite a few stories and characters where I’ve hinted at there being at least some version of them in this universe (with the caveat that they don’t include any obvious complicating elements like superheroes or aliens or the world ending, etc.). However, and I feel this is important, when writing a story I’m careful to make sure the non-kaiju-related references have no more relevance than background details, unless the story I’m writing is tagged specifically as a crossover.

I’m not going to go over every single aspect of this timeline attempt, because that would be way too long and some of them are spoilers, but since this is Gamera March, I’ll end with my version of just the Gamera elements of this timeline (save for the aliens, which I’ll get to later, and Irys, whose origins I haven’t completely settled on yet. Also note that I include characters and elements from The Last Hope in my world-building but not the exact details of the legend). I use this timeline in the stories that are set in my main kaiju universe (only two definitively so far), but you can bet I’m probably still thinking about at least some of its elements, even in one-off stories and AUs that don’t directly follow these events.

12,000 years ago: In response to the Muans developing creatures that absorb atomic power (or similar energy) to grow larger and stronger, the Atlanteans switch from their arsenal of such weapons to one that includes a genetics program. The earliest kaiju created include Gyaos, Barugon, Jiger, and possibly Zedus, but when they (most significantly Gyaos) go rogue, the Atlanteans create Gamera to stop them - emboldened by the discovery of Universal Energy/Mana and their acquirement of Elias metals to use in the Magatama amulets to channel it (the same technology as the seal used on Desghidorah). Their efforts are ultimately futile, and Atlantis is destroyed.

12,000-10,000 years ago: Toward the start of the intervening millennia, a group of Atlantean survivors establishes an underground city near what would become New York. The purpose taken on by this city and its inhabitants is to allow Gamera to protect future civilizations from the Gyaos horde. During this time, Gamera’s reincarnation cycle is developed, including a number of eggs that would be distributed across the Earth and used as beacons to re-absorb and house Gamera’s Mana upon death. (The Atlantean survivors would also establish an observation outpost nearer to the surface, which would millennia later become home to four mutant turtles. At least one Atlantean inhabited the underground city up until that time, however, his intentions were ultimately malicious and an encounter with the mutant turtles left him imprisoned in stasis, where he could do no further harm).

10,000 years ago: The continent of Mu is destroyed by Battra after an attempt to gain control over the Earth with a weather machine. With humans now nearly extinct, the adult Gyaos turn on each other and the rest die of starvation. Gyaos eggs laid across the world during this time fail to hatch due to the recovering environment and associated increase in Mana, and would remain dormant until ecological destruction and the decline of Mana reaches another peak with modern humans.

3,000-1,500 years ago: It is unknown how many incarnations Gamera took on over the next many thousands of years, but by Magatama being discovered in association with Japanese cultures from these periods of its history, we can infer he had at least one, possibly many encounters with humanity in this stretch of time. It is unknown for what purpose he emerged or what other monsters he may have faced.

1965: Gamera, in either a new body hatched from an egg in the arctic or one that was imprisoned there at some point prior, is freed by an accidental nuclear explosion and (for reasons I will theorize in my review of the original Gamera) initially chooses to wage war on humanity. He would go on to later battle other monsters either directly or indirectly created by Atlantis (more on that upcoming in my Guiron review), including a reawakened Barugon (unconfirmed if Barugon follows a similar reincarnation cycle or if the cave contains a finite number of eggs) and the first new Gyaos of many to revive during this era.

1971: the events of Gamera vs. Zigra take place (the 1985 date appears to be an addition of Sandy Frank, who commissioned the dub in 1985, and if Super Monster is included in this timeline, it appears to necessitate these events taking place before 1980).

1973: Showa Gamera is Avant Gamera, and dies sacrificing himself against a larger swarm of Gyaos that awakens six years after the first.

1980: If Super Monster is included on this timeline (and at this point I’m leaning toward yes), then another incarnation of Gamera appears when, newly hatched, he somehow winds up placed in a pet store terrarium with other turtles. This Gamera would grow to full size over several days and sacrifice himself again to stop the Zanon spaceship.

1995: After hatching inside the atoll and growing large enough to lift it to the surface, Gamera engages another group of Gyaos, then later fights Legion and Irys (for now, I’m leaving Legion as a genuine interstellar lifeform, with no connection to the inhabitants of ancient Earth).

1999: Gamera succumbs to his wounds and dies, after his triumphant defeat of a much larger swarm of Gyaos (with the help of Godzilla Junior and the other broken-loose inhabitants of Monster Island, along with several rogue or territorial kaiju active at that time including Titanosaurus and King Cobra, in an event that becomes known as the Gyaos War).

2006: Gamera reawakens from another egg, and while only partially grown, manages to defeat Zedus. Which brings us to where our story (or one of them) begins...

#gamera #godzilla #wold newton #kaiju #daikaiju #tokusatsu #crossover fiction #atragon #atlantis gamera #mu atragon #continuity #fanfic #gamera march