#it is beyond morality as we can judge it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mariacallous · 10 months

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The problem with judging people for their sins is that the internet makes it exceedingly easy to invent sins. In February, Buzzfeed News reported on a man filmed by a passing TikTokker, who then uploaded the footage with text suggesting he’d lied to her to get out of a date. That was false—he’d never met her—but it didn’t stop people from ridiculing him as the video racked up over a million views.

Similarly, last year, an Australian woman objected to being made the star of a stunt in which a TikTokker asked her to hold a bouquet, strolled off, and then congratulated himself on performing a random act of kindness. Sixty million hits later, his viewers were praising him for brightening the day of a woman they judged to be old, lonely, and sad. But she objected to that characterization and declared the whole affair “dehumanizing.” She hadn’t asked to have her day interrupted, let alone be thrust into a global spotlight.

And then there are those incapable of even grasping the situation. In 2022, a TikTok channel was called out for surreptitiously filming the homeless with drones. Loved ones with dementia are put on TikTok to be infantilized or have their worst moments gawked at. Parents transform their children into viral stars. Sometimes, those children grow up and call them out for warping their youth.

When people tell us it was harrowing and wrong to be unwillingly cast into the spotlight, we nod and agree. But those responsible typically offer only half-hearted apologies or remain unrepentant, while their millions of views discourage reflection. Often, moral scolding is implicit in the video and explicit in the comments: It is wrong to be homeless. It is gross to be ill. It is pathetic to be unhappy.

To be sure, crass and hateful public figures are worthy of ridicule. And we’ve been using the internet to judge strangers for as long as we’ve had the internet. But the common trait shared by much of the most obnoxious content today is that someone chose to elevate a stranger for no reason beyond their own gratification, attracting attention at a scale unimaginable in the days of relics like Hot or Not and People of Wal-Mart.

At best, these are misguided attempts to juice the poster’s social media presence. At worst, they are pointless cruelty. That cruelty can be addictive, but we can and must resist the urge to gawk at strangers against their will. It should, in fact, be considered rude, insulting, and wrong to have uploaded a stranger against their will. We would not go out into the streets and stir up a mob against a random person. Why are we so comfortable with doing it online?

Much of what we post online is innocent and will remain so. The average Facebook user has 338 friends, while the average number of Instagram followers, according to one estimate, is just 150. You likely use these platforms to follow celebrities and brands, and to interact with friends and family. These are, for most users, insular communities. Vacation photos with friends or a family portrait at Christmas are unlikely to attract trolls and creeps, and even if they do, they are clearly posted in good faith.

But some platforms, like TikTok and Twitter, are more exposed to the vagaries and cruelties of the wider world. Anything you post on them can wind up in the feed of people who don't follow you. Therefore, anyone can become the day’s punching bag. Does your relative really understand what could happen if you put your interaction with them on TikTok?

Maybe you know better than to post Grandpa on Twitter without thinking it through. We know whether our friends and family like attention and whether they understand social media ecosystems, and with this knowledge we are capable of making informed decisions as to whether and on what platforms we should post them. We do not have the same knowledge of strangers. That can be a reason to not post them, but it can also be an excuse to post them without thinking.

If it came out that an influencer uploaded an interaction with a stranger to a private Facebook page or Discord server solely so their closest friends and family could pick them apart, it would rightly be considered misanthropic. And yet uploading a stranger so millions can mock and over-analyze them is just the business of content. That business needs to change.

It’s exceedingly unlikely we’ll ever eliminate jackassery from the internet, but a social media mishap involving a friend or family member can be resolved with communication.

It is harder for a complete stranger to succeed in that endeavor, especially when “Look at this weirdo I found, please gape at them” is the text or subtext of so many videos and posts by accounts that thrive on content starring the unwilling. Such content must become anathema. Particular thought must be taken before posting an interaction with a stranger, and the consent of a stranger to be posted at all is necessary to retain an internet that is even remotely civil. If someone does post a stranger without their consent, they should be shunned, not rewarded with the attention they crave.

The vast majority of disputes with unruly neighbors are solved by talking to them. Ideally, the law only gets involved when lines of communication break down. The same can be true of digital disputes.

We have privacy laws. If I were to post your name, address, and phone number, you would have legal recourse. And yet the same is not true for your image. Today, at least, you surrender your right to privacy by stepping into public. But outdated privacy laws are catching up to the abuses of government and tech, and the issues raised by social media virality could be next.

Still, a blanket law against posting strangers without their consent would be draconian and unworkable. There are too many variables, too many circumstances, and simply too many cases. However, whole generations who have been online since birth—sometimes unwillingly—could grow up to be more sensitive to the downsides of posting without permission, prompting a normative shift.

More specific laws are already evolving to handle some scenarios raised by nonconsensual virality, specifically as it applies to children. Irina Raicu of Santa Clara University’s Internet Ethics Program points out that a recent French law entitles child influencers to demand that platforms scrub all trace of them once they turn 16. The YouTube career their parents create for them—or force on them—need not be what defines them as adults. The United States is considering a similar law; a woman who testified to a House committee said the details of her first period were turned into content.

Another law being considered in France would make parents responsible for their children’s privacy rights. Le Monde cites, as an example of fame-seeking behavior that France is hoping to discourage, TikTokkers scaring their children by pretending to call the police on them, and an Instagrammer who smeared chocolate on her 4-year-old and convinced them they were covered in feces. We will eventually wonder how parents were able to get away with this at all.

So those who cannot consent are starting to be protected. But what about those who could consent, but don’t? And what if, as some unwillingly viral subjects have found, reaching out and asking for posts to be removed is met with silence or rejection?

In reality we already practice social media consent; it is not unusual to ask a friend if they’re alright with having a picture posted to Instagram, even though the face they make as they try to cram an unusually large sandwich into their mouth is not a flattering one. And yet we continually fail to extend this courtesy to strangers, either because we think nothing of it or because it is our job to go viral at all costs.

Some of this, as Raicu points out, can be blamed on the platforms we use, which encourage hair triggers. “There are ways in which the design choices behind many websites make it harder for all of us to think about consent,” Raicu wrote in an email. She points to the sheer ease of posting and the fact that norms around social media consent have not solidified. But she notes that platforms could “introduce some friction” in the form of, essentially, reminders that other people are human before you hit Post.

Future platforms could work to curtail shaming, either out of moral compulsion or legal necessity. Much as you can report harassment to social media platforms, posts that have elevated you to infamy against your will should be fair targets.

Lines have been drawn before. YouTube banned dangerous pranks and challenges after people were hurt and complaints mounted. TikTok is trying to tweak its algorithm in response to growing concerns that young users are awash in content encouraging suicide and incel ideology. Content made from those unable or unwilling to consent is a broad category that cannot be wiped out with algorithmic tweaks, but the damage is still happening, and we have the power to collectively declare that some forms of content are unacceptable and must no longer be tolerated.

Perhaps, given the increasing universality of social media usage—83 percent of Gen Z uses TikTok—platform-embedded tools could establish consent. Before posting a video of someone, an influencer could ask their username and send them a simple, stock contract granting them permission to post. Again, this need not apply to every random photo of friends. It could be optional, or it might apply only when an account reaches a certain threshold of followers. But a lack of permission could give a user cause when they cite unwanted virality and negative attention when asking for a post to be removed.

But most of the work will fall to people. It's difficult enough to remember that the man being a bit rude in the grocery store line is a fallible human being with hopes and dreams; it can be almost impossible to remind yourself of that when viewing a contextless clip of someone halfway across the hemisphere. The internet is capable of connecting us to tremendous numbers of people, even as it makes us forget that they are human like us.

An influencer comfortable with filming themselves for thousands of viewers should be comfortable with approaching a stranger and saying, “Would you mind appearing in a video I’m making? I’m going to post it on this platform, and I have this many followers. Take a minute to check me out.” Some already do, and surely there are people who would be happy to receive a free bouquet in exchange for appearing in a TikTokker’s silly stunt. But a no should be taken as a no, just as it should in any other scenario involving consent.

It’s all too easy to skip this step today. People who speak out when they feel harmed by what an influencer did with their image receive only a tiny fraction of the attention that the original posts featuring them got. But when an influencer is repeatedly called out for exploiting strangers—or when their exploitation is obvious, such as when they prey on the homeless—they should be frozen out of the social media ecosystem, not rewarded with attention and profit.

In the future, how will we be able to see such casual cruelty as anything but unethical? Maybe stories of regret are a sign of what’s to come. Brianna Wu, one of the victims of GamerGate, says she has fielded over 100 apologies, often from people who were at their lowest and saw her as an easy outlet for their emotions. But we generally don’t take our frustrations out on people on the street; understanding that people deserve to be protected from unsolicited online fame and malice is the next logical step.

We no longer parade people through villages on a cart or lock them in pillories in the town square to shame them, as was done in centuries past. We did not stop enforcing laws and norms, but we recognized that humiliation and ostracization are harsh, counterproductive tools. Eventually, we will make that realization about the strangers we parade across the internet.

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whatbigotspost · 9 months

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It’s interesting* being a fat person and having to put up w/ a society and chatter all around me that is constantly saying fatphobic, hateful, ableist lies about health and totally unnecessary moralizing about food and the constant telegraphing that a body like mine is pitiable and disgusting and bad bad baaaad AND THEN when we fat people dare to say any version of like “hey, can y’all just not for a sec?” having thin people who want a gold star emerge ONLY to say “It’s not me! I swear! I’m soooOooOoo totally different. My weight obsession is just about my own body! I’m not judging you, live laugh love!!!”

*what I really mean is tedious, annoying, and exhausting beyond words.

I used to say this all the time, but if something is not about you, don’t fucking make it about you. It’s revealing to a degree you don’t want to pop up being like “I’m a good one!!! I swear!!!” when I complain about this kind of shitty treatment but not to ever do so as an ally to mitigate the shitty treatment in the first place. Sigh.

#fatphobia #weight loss Bs

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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months

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Can I order a Hashira! Reader X yan! uppermoons 1, 2 and 3? (Separate)

Reader is pretty short and seems like a weak hashira but nuh uh, don't judge a book by its cover. THEY CAN BEAT THE FUCK OUT OF MUZAN UNTIL HE HAS A NEW FEAR WHICH IS THEM (in short, they are stronger than Muzan himself but won't kill Muzan yet because they wanna do it with other fellow hashiras, no they are not a reincarnation of Yoriichi.) (I'm in love with OP readers BARK BARK BORK BARK BARK😍😍)

I love seeing muzan being a coward and having PTSD attacks😇🙏

Okay, so we’re Yoriichi once again. He does deserve the love so it makes sense, ima just pretend we are Yoriichi. Also Muzan does deserve some beatings so let’s go along with this

Kokushibo

Kokushibo feels the anarchy drop before him with his jaw, when he first meets you. You look helpless, unable to lift up a sword but you can easily square up with Muzan. He should be afraid but he isn’t, he is interested

Kokushibo is obsessed with seeing you after you beat the living hell into his Lord. He wants to learn more about you and his mind rots with that need. He doesn’t care to walk around the morning to find you again

Kokushibo loves admiring all kinds of random parts of you, alongside his passionate love. Your hobbies, your habits, your height, your patterns and schedules. He knows all of it down to the core and stalks you at night to see them again

Douma

Douma cannot believe a mere human can lay hands on Muzan, ever since the longtime threat Yoriichi was disposed off. Douma almost wants to congratulate you, he is very impressed by you and your skills, despite how useless your tiny body looks

Douma eventually grows so insane for you, that doing literally anything is a challenge for him. He can’t stand being away from you, you’ve taken his heart away when you slapped the oblivion out of his Lord. What does he have to do to get you?!

Douma leaves gifts at your doorstep every morning and every night, on repeat. The style he expresses his horrific affection for you is to spoil you rotten, he can easily get this gifts and he doesn’t care to brave the woods for you. He blindly believes that he is winning you over with each gift

Akaza

Akaza is beyond shocked, his world breaks when he witnesses the smackdown of the year, dealt by a scrawny petite Hashira to the actual King of Demons and how effortlessly you did it, he is both shocked and impressed, what a incredible human! He thinks and thinks for days, if not months

Akaza originally just wanted to train to be able to beat you, you become his rival but then that temporary rivalry turns into a soul-devouring adoration. Turning his views and last ounce of morality into mush, he needs you and he needs you so bad

Akaza doesn’t understand why you want to kill Muzan with your stupid fellow Hashira. Why are you wasting your care on them, they are below you and he is, to a extend, but he doesn’t care. He will be near you as much as he possibly can, rather you be asleep or not

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hero-israel · 8 days

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DECOLONIZE PALESTINE!

White Eurocentrists are working overtime to colonize Middle Eastern politics, undermine national sovereignty and the rule of law, and make wars longer and deadlier.

The whole point of the ICC's existence is that it can intervene in countries that don't have independent court systems. In addition to Israel not being a party to the ICC anyway, past ICC leaders have said the Israeli court system is perfectly capable of prosecuting their own criminals - it isn't like some anarchic ex-Libyan splinter-statelet or eastern European dictatorship where all the judges are just store mannequins with the leader's face on them. Netanyahu is under active criminal indictment, his judicial overhaul FAILED. For the ICC to step in anyway completely undercuts their own value proposition and reason for existence, and also makes clear that having an independent court system doesn't matter at all AND ISN'T WORTH FIGHTING FOR. But, uhhhh, people should totally still act like their judgments are morally serious!

And then a bunch of Europeans went and "recognized" Palestine, even though Palestine does not have control of its borders, does not have unified leadership, does not have a monopoly of force... what the fuck are they "recognizing"? Why don't they just give a Grammy Award to Palestine as being the best new album? They are corroding language to a point where it means utterly nothing, but expecting us to take it seriously all the same. Oh and they "recognize" Palestine on the "pre-1967 borders," which don't exist, because the armistice - WHICH WAS INTERNATIONAL LAW - flatly says the armistice lines are not national borders and that national borders can only be established by direct negotiations. Europeans ignore the international law set up by Middle Easterners so they can center the process around themselves. (Flashback to COVID vaccine controversy: the international law signed between Israel and Palestine says the latter is responsible for its own vaccines, but Europeans want everybody to talk about the laws signed in Switzerland).

Right after Trump won in 2016, the Obama Administration signed off on a UNSC resolution saying all Israeli presence beyond the armistice line was illegal - thus totally abandoning the "land swaps" framework that all sides had acknowledged for 30+ years. Who could ever expect a Palestinian to negotiate a land swap ever again once the UNSC and USA all agree that Israel is entitled to nothing? This will make future negotiations HARDER and a future state LESS LIKELY. It is blindingly obvious that if Hillary Clinton had won, USA would never have gone along with such a revision; instead, Obama went panic-shopping for a symbolic victory at any price.

Europe - and, sorry to say, the last few Democratic U.S. presidents - is very clearly sending a message to Palestine: "You will never have to negotiate, just hold out longer and keep fighting and dying more." And also sending a message to Israel: "You can never trust a signed legal agreement, we will undermine any arrangement you make with Palestine." This toxic internationalism leaves peace even less likely.

If Europeans and "peace processors" really want to free Palestine, let them send their armies into Gaza and wipe out Hamas to the last man, seize all the weapons and crush all the tunnels, and help stabilize a new unified Palestinian leadership. That is the ONLY intervention they could attempt that would possibly help at all.

#palestine #gaza #imperialism #eurocentrism #international criminal court #spain #norway #israel #colonialism #lawfare

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probablybadrpgideas · 1 year

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Opinions on D&D alignment by D&D alignment

Lawful Good: I use alignment not as a restriction, but an ideal- it indicates their values and beliefs. My character might not always hold to their alignment 100% of the time- who does?- but there's still good roleplaying opportunities in knowing the kind of person they strive to be, and we should keep it around for that.

Neutral Good: Alignment is a useful starting point for character building. Knowing a character is "lawful good" gives a clear image of your character ( like knowing they're a warlock or dwarf does) but you should work to give them an identity beyond that. As long as you remember that, its fine.

Chaotic Good: Alignment removes moral ambiguity and makes the campaign weaker for it- a lot of interesting discussions become laughable when you can just use an Evilometer to determine who's objectively in the right. We should remove it and instead allow players to judge scenarios for themselves

Lawful Neutral: I'm sorry, but as as a Chaotic character I cannot take a reward from the king! It goes against Who I Am As A Person! No, instead I throw the gold to the floor in a fit of a rage and storm out. Sorry, that's my alignment.

True Neutral: What's an alignment? While you're at it, what's an AC, HP, advantage and D&D?

Chaotic Neutral: HOW DARE YOU SIR! I PLAY AS I SEE FIT! DAMN MY FLAWS, DAMN MY BONDS AND MOST OF ALL, THIRCE-DAMN MY BLASTED ALIGNMENT! MY CHARACTER EATS THE SSSSSSLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGG!!! AHAHAHAAAA!

Lawful Evil: Sorry guys, but if you look at page 122, Neutral Evil is defined as "those who do whatever they can get away with, without compassion or qualms". As such, I would argue that I am well within the spirit of the game to stab all the other PCs in their sleep and run off with their loot. Guess you guys just aren't as dedicated roleplayers as me.

Neutral Evil: Um, actually, I'm lawful good so Brian's Smite Evil shouldn't have done anything to me? Yeah, if you can just amend that, thanks. Anyway, I make another attack roll to beat Brian to death with an orphan.

Chaotic Evil: Oh, I'm not really a roleplayer. The only alignment I care about is my rolls aligning with 20s and if they don't my fist is going to be aligning with your goddamn face.

#Alignment #rpg #roleplaying game #D&D

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dreamingofep · 2 months

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Sinned Awakening pt. 25 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, smut, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for your patience with this one! I have the second half of this part in Elvis’ perspective to get a better grasp of what he was going through early on in the relationship. Especially after new revelations get brought up to reader…

I thought this second half blends in perfectly to part 8. I reread it and might insert this new part in between the first and second days of meeting each other. Or write more parts in his perspective I don’t know…🫣 But that’s how you can read it if you feel so inclined!

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

The sound of the door slamming rang in your ears like a dog whistle. It was painful and made you want to collapse to your knees. Not only did the sound hurt, but your heart also hurt. You felt it down to your bones how much pain Elvis felt when you were telling him how you were questioning his morals.

You quickly open the front door again in hopes of stopping him. He was getting on his motorcycle and putting the keys in the ignition. A couple of the guys were standing around with worried looks on their faces, unsure of where he was going. They look up to you for guidance, hoping you had an idea of what he was doing. You start to run to him and in a blink of an eye you were right in front of him. You were shocked to find that you were this fast. You grab onto Elvis’ wrist once more, hoping he will listen.

“Elvis please, tell me where you’re going,” you beg. He had his sunglasses on, shielding you from the cold stare he had.

“Please, let go of me, I have to go.” You do as he says and let go of his arm. He starts the bike and revs the engine, making you jump at the sound. He pulls the throttle and speeds down the driveway. The front gates open and you watch as Elvis leaves your view, the breath getting sucked from your lungs.

The guys stand there motionless, not knowing what to do or say to you. You feel their eyes judging you, waiting for you to say something.

“Would you stop staring at me,” you snap at them. They all advert their eyes somewhere else, not wanting to upset you more.

There was this pit in your stomach that was filled with emptiness and despair. You did feel horrible for fighting with Elvis. The few times you two got into arguments, it felt awful, and didn’t like seeing him so upset. But this fight was different, you were married now, bonded vampires that were supposed to love each other til the end of time. You’ve barely been awake for twenty-four hours and managed to piss off your husband so bad he’s running away from you.

Great.

You step closer to Jerry and sigh.

“How much did you guys hear?” You ask. He pauses, unsure how to answer you without pissing you off more.

“We heard enough…” he says softly. You wince, not liking that you had an audience for your fight.

“Was it that bad?” You ask in a hushed tone.

He doesn’t look at you, he just keeps looking forward and nervously bites the inside of his cheek.

“Well… it was rough, let’s just say that much,” he responds.

You grumble at the confession. It didn’t take much for you to feel bad about the whole thing but hearing from another person is tough to handle.

“Fuck,” you mutter, turning to go back inside the house. You go to sit on the couch and put your face in your hands. You felt like you were on the brink of having an emotional breakdown. Everything felt cold and barren here without Elvis.

The front door opens again and you feel Jerry sit next to you. You don’t want to look at him, knowing you’re going to instantly cry. You both sit there in silence, not sure exactly what to say.

“You weren’t wrong though,” he says gently. You take a deep breath and look over at him.

“It wasn't easy to hear, but he needed to understand how you felt,” he continues.

“Yeah, I know,” you mumble.

“But he wasn’t wrong either.” He says low.

You shoot him a look of surprise and he looks away out of fear.

“I get it, I know he’s completely different from when I first met him. But he wasn’t listening to me at all! Wasn’t trying to meet in the middle.” You say frustrated.

He nods his head, “I get why that’s frustrating. Elvis is stubborn as you know, he loves having it his way,” he snickers, “but I think you doubt how much he loves you.” He says truthfully. You have to pinch your hand to keep yourself from blowing up on him.

“I know he loves me,” you growl at him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really don’t think you do,” he says, trying to get you to listen.

“Are you kidding me right now? Of course I know my own husband loves me!” You hiss at him.

“Y/n just hear me out, okay? Did he tell you how much he wanted you around when he first met you?”

You take a second to regroup yourself and you reposition yourself on the couch to look at him more head-on.

“I don’t know what you mean… he told me how much he wanted me after tasting my blood for the first time, is that what you mean?” You ask a little confused.

“No before that. He laid his eyes on you and thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You walked in that room and completely changed his life,” he explains.

Hearing that made your heart soar. You didn’t know that he felt like that so early on.

“I didn’t know that… when did he tell you this?” You squeak out.

“Well, after your first day and the incident,” he puts lightly, “he came back and he looked different, like he thought about his whole life differently. I asked him what was wrong and he wouldn’t answer me right away, he was too deep in thought. Then he looked at me and his eyes were the clearest I’ve ever seen. He told me he’s never felt like that before… that he thought he loved you.”

“I thought he was absolutely crazy for saying sucha thing. He had just met you. But I didn’t say a word, knowing how much it would piss him off if I questioned his feelings for you… I know now that he was absolutely right. I’m the one that feels crazy for questioning it.” He says embarrassed.

More tears rolled down your cheeks, feeling overwhelmed by it all. You hate that you argued over something so petty with him. You felt so blind that you didn’t see or even questioned how much Elvis loved you. Your love ran deep from the second you walked into that room. Your bond tied you to each other instantly and he knew it, he was just scared you didn’t feel the same.

You wipe some of your tears and look back at Jerry.

“I’m an idiot… I always hurt him and question his feelings for me. I’ve been so blind,” you weep into your hands.

“No that’s not true. You were human, your senses don’t work like they do now. It wasn’t as obvious for you as it was for him. Don’t be too hard on yourself y/n,” he tries to explain. No amount of reassurance could make you feel better about this. You needed to make this right with him.

“I knew he felt strongly for me early on, I just had no idea how much… God, I need to apologize to him,” you cry.

“It’s going to be okay, you both just need some space to think clearly,” he says.

“He didn’t tell you guys where he was going? Not even a clue?” You push.

Jerry shakes his head and looks at you sorrowfully.

“No, I’m sorry. He just told us to go get his bike. He was pretty upset and would have probably bitten our heads off if we kept him waiting,” he says stiffly.

You couldn’t help but panic a little. No one knew where he was going or when he was coming back. Jerry sees how upset you are and doesn’t exactly know what to say.

“He might be out there looking for someone…” he says gently. You don’t understand what he’s talking about, Elvis didn’t mention anything like this to you.

“Who exactly?” You ask.

“Ever since he bit you and you didn’t exactly change right away, he was a nervous wreck. He had no idea what had happened or if you were going to wake up. He thought he had almost killed you,” he says regretfully.

“He kicked us all out of the hotel and told us to go back home and start looking for answers. Any sort of sign that you’d be okay or any lore that might explain what’s happening to you. He also didn’t want us around you at all. He was already possessive around you enough when you were human but he wouldn’t let us near the bedroom. I’ve never seen him so scared and rattled.” He sighs.

Your heart cries for Elvis, you wish you could have comforted him in some way.

“So you guys came back here? Did you find any answers?” You ask intrigued.

“No, not exactly… we were trying to find older vampires that may have heard about this kind of thing. Or better yet, we hoped to find another Chosen pair.”

You feel your heart flutter at the thought. It would be incredible to find other Chosen vampires and have them explain to you both what it’s like. Explain to you your abilities and how they work.

You grab Jerry’s wrist in excitement and have his full attention on you.

“Well, did you find any?!” You ask excitedly.

He looks down at your hand around his wrist and tries to move.

“Umm, y/n, you’re hurting me,” he grunts. You instantly let go of him and feel bad.

“Shit I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you say panicked.

“No, it’s okay. Elvis might kill me that I have your scent on me but it’s fine, I’ll live,” he teases, rubbing his red wrist.

“Stop don’t joke like that!” You laugh, “I won’t let him do anything to you don’t worry. But seriously, what happened? Did you find anyone?” You continue.

“The thing about old vampires, is they don’t like to be seen. They either don’t like the modern world or they’re too stubborn to leave their house. A lot like how Elvis was in Vegas. He wouldn’t ever leave before you came around. He was too afraid he’d go on a feeding spree,” he jokes. It didn’t feel like a joke to you though, he was unpredictable over there, and he might have done just that.

He watches how that thought makes you nervous and tries to distract you by talking about something else.

“So to answer your question, no, we haven’t found anyone that can give us answers. I’m sorry y/n. I wish we could help you guys figure this all out and understand what happened to you, but we have no idea. I have a feeling that’s where Elvis went. He’s looking for answers. I’m sure he wants to know what you guys need as far as blood. But most importantly, he needs to know what happened to you. Why you didn’t wake up after he bit you,” he presses.

You both sit there in silence for a while, unsure of what to say next. You had no answers and without Elvis here, it didn’t seem like you were going to get any.

Jerry stands up and starts to walk away, “I’ll leave you alone… you’ve had a busy first day as a vampire,” he says low.

Shit, he’s right, you’ve barely been up for a day and so much has happened and you’ve learned so much.

You continue to sit there, unsure of what to do. You glance at the clock and it reads 2:30 am. It dawns on you that you weren’t tired. You were wide awake and had no idea what to do to occupy your time now.

You felt your head swirl with a million thoughts. There was so much you wanted to say to Elvis. You needed to apologize for how blind you’ve been and how regretful you are for saying those awful things. He changed and you couldn’t hold what he did in the past over him. You can’t imagine how scary it was for him to bite you and watch you lay there motionless for days yet again.

You didn’t want to be seen by anyone and wanted to hide from everyone after they heard your fight with Elvis. Making your way up the stairs, you open the door to the bedroom and close it softly. You let out a deep sigh when you turn around and see the bedroom dark and barren.

This wasn’t how you pictured yourself on your first day as a vampire. You wanted everything to be alright and have him by your side. You walk over to the bed and sit on the corner of it. It felt cold and uninviting. All you could see was you two lying in the middle of the bed holding each other, whispering tender words to each other. But that was a cruel daydream that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon.

The First Day with You, After the Incident

Elvis silently curses at himself, ticked off he treated you like such an asshole. If he had some control, maybe he could have had a normal conversation with you and not scared you off so easily. Your scent still swirled in his head and made his mouth continue to water. He had a hard choice to make. Either follow you home or go back upstairs and try to forget how you tasted. He knew both options were going to be torture to him and he didn’t like either option.

Sulking back upstairs from the parking garage, all he could think of was you. How you looked, how you said his name, how your blood spilled down his arm like sweet honey. The closer he gets to the penthouse, the more fragrant your scent becomes. He starts to walk through the hallway and he looks at his men standing there with their red eyes glowing. Hungry.

It pissed Elvis off seeing them lusting after your blood. It didn’t make sense why he felt so strongly about shielding you from them but he hated that they were starving to have a taste of you. He pins one of them to the wall and quickly gets in their face.

“You better not be thinkin’ of feeding off her,” he seethes, “you won’t lay a finger on her you understand,” he barks at him. He quickly nods his head and looks away from Elvis. Elvis gives him another shove for good measure and quickly goes into the suite, slamming the door harshly.

He lets out a sigh when he’s once again wrapped in your essence. How could one human be so luring to him? He didn’t understand what made you so different from all the rest. Never had he experienced the immediate pull to a human quite like you. Sure, most people’s scents drew him closer to them as he wanted to feed from them, but you were so much different. Just the way your heart sounded to him was the most captivating sound he’d heard in a long time. The way it fluttered and faltered when he talked to you, he wanted to talk to you for hours to just get to hear it beat for him.

He goes to sit on the piano bench and regains some focus. But it was no use, all he wanted was you. Flashing images of your captivating eyes make him feel like a weak puddle. Oh, how he wished he could stare into your eyes longer. See what’s underneath those oceanic pools and swim in them. He huffs quietly, frustrated he could feel like this in a matter of minutes for you. He wanted you back here now, but you were much too frazzled to be around him.

A knock on the door shakes him from his daydream and looks up to see who it is.

“Yeah?!” He yells.

The door cracks open and Jerry peeks his head in.

“Are you okay-,” he starts to ask but the aroma of your blood is almost too much for him. He holds his breath as he waits for Elvis to answer.

“No, not really,” Elvis grumbles.

“Is there something we can do, or?” He asks carefully, knowing Elvis is not in the best of moods.

Elvis nervously wipes his palms on the tops of his thighs. He doesn’t exactly know what to say or try to explain how he feels.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do man. That woman… I can’t stop thinkin’ about her,” he admits.

“Are you sure you want her around after today?” He says carefully. Elvis glares daggers at him and that one look is all Jerry needs to shut up quickly.

Elvis stands up and straightens out his shirt, “she’ll be back up here tomorrow, you better call her,” he instructs. He goes to the window and looks out at the city below him, the streets crawling with life. He wonders where you live if you live close or further out of town. It would probably be easy to find where you live, your scent is something he could never forget and could easily find you. But not tonight, his mind was too all over the place to be so close to you again.

He turns back around and takes a deep breath in before speaking.

“I don’t know how but… I’m totally captivated by her. I don’t understand why I feel like this. One second I wanted to suck her dry and the next I just wanted to…” he pauses, searching for the right words, but he knew the exact one he felt, “love her. I just want to love her. She’s so perfect and beautiful, I love her,” he proclaims.

Jerry remains quiet, not wanting to tick him off more by his own personal feelings about the matter. Elvis tries to rationalize that he might feel this way because of tasting your blood but he’s never felt like this for any human. No one’s come close to the feelings he has for you. It scared him a little to be quite frank.

He needed to calm down and think rationally, a lot happened and he couldn’t just jump to the conclusion that he loved you the second he saw you. Those kinds of things don’t happen in real life. Those are things that happen in fairytales and his life was no fairytale.

Or could it turn into one with you in it?

Stop, you idiot, that’s not happening, he scolds himself.

Elvis goes to sit down on the sofa and contemplates what exactly he should do til you arrive tomorrow. It felt like such a long time to him until he was going to see your face again. Jerry doesn’t exactly know what to say and starts to leave the room. Before he closes the door, he turns back around to speak, “Forgive me, but were you still… hungry? There’s someone downstairs that we can have up here for you,” he informs Elvis.

Elvis sighs and nods his head. Maybe he just needed a distraction, something to take his mind off of you.

“Sure, maybe I’m too starved to think clearly. Send her up whenever,” Elvis says flatly. He goes to change his clothes to get your scent off of him. But who was he kidding, that’s not happening, he only wanted more. He changes anyway into a new button-up shirt and slacks and looks over himself in the mirror. His eyes were extra vibrant and not so dull looking. It surprised him after having so little of your blood, it made him feel dramatically better.

He smooths the hair on the side of his head and tries to regroup himself.

She’s just a girl… that’s all.

Don’t be an idiot and fall head-first in love with her.

You’re just too starved, anyone would taste good to you, he thinks.

Lies, all lies.

An hour later, there’s a soft knock at the door. Elvis takes a deep breath and goes to answer the door. A short, cute brunette stands in front of him, ogling him the second she sees his face.

He smiles at her, finding her reaction to him cute. She was cute. Not beautiful like you but still attractive.

“Hi, darlin’,” he says smoothly. He hears her heart gallop away in her chest and he does like the sound of it. “Would you like to come in?” He asks her.

“Oh, yes,” she says softly. Elvis opens the door and steps aside so she can step inside. He leads her to the sofa and sits next to her.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asks, brushing her hair off her shoulders and exposing her neck to him more. She takes a sharp breath in before speaking, nerves rushing through her.

“Amy. I saw your show last night. You were amazing,” she gushes. He gives a small smile, grabbing her small, delicate hand in his.

“Thank you darlin’. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Did you have a favorite part?” He asks coyly. She giggles softly and hides her face from him.

“Oh all of it, but,” she blushes and stops when she feels him rubbing circles on the back of her hand. Her heart flutters more and he likes it, he wants to hear it get louder.

“But what darlin’?” Elvis asks her.

She takes a deep breath before speaking and looks at his hand on hers.

“But I didn’t get a kiss when you walked through the crowd. You walked right by me,” she says bluntly.

“Oh well I can fix that for you,” he coos.

Her heart hammers away in his ears as she nods her head and he leans in for the kiss. Her lips were soft and she sighed when she felt him kiss her. He didn’t necessarily hate it, it was nice to kiss someone who loved him already. He gives her another kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck. Her body screamed for him and the heat that came off of her was palpable. He put a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in more and she loved it. He didn’t feel the same though, he just wanted to bite her, make her forget about that part of the evening, and get her to leave. Elvis pulls away from her and she’s left breathless.

“Was that okay? Hope I didn’t disappoint you,” he says slyly. She looks up at him with big needy eyes, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“Oh it was perfect, thank you,” she blushes. “Could I have another?” She asks.

“Sure honey. Did you want to stay here or go in the bedroom?” He says low. Her heart skips a beat, just like he thought it would.

“Oh, we could go to the bedroom,” she whispers.

Elvis gets up and leads her to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. She sits on the edge of the bed, waiting expectantly for him. He steps in front of her, placing his hands on the tops of her thighs and rubbing softly there. He can feel the heat radiating off her body and the warmth of her core begging for him.

“Elvis?” She asks shyly. He looks over her, watching how the pulse in her neck rises.

Bite right there, his mind screams at him.

“What is it sweetheart,” he hums, tracing the side of her neck softly with the back of his finger.

“Touch me,” she whimpers. He places a kiss on her cheek and slowly raises her dress higher, exposing her naked core to him. He’s a little shocked, not expecting her to be so blunt.

“You are quite a bad girl aren’t ya?” He teases.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she retorts, opening her legs more for him to get closer to her. He hears her heartbeat rises quickly and all he can do is get closer to her neck, wanting to take a big bite there. The scent of her blood smelled appetizing and he placed kisses in the crook of her neck. She moans when she feels his lips on her.

An image of you flashes in his mind the more he nips and teases this girl.

Oh fuck.

Those beautiful eyes of yours take over his thoughts and how pretty they would look if they were the ones looking up at him right now. Damn, he wanted you here, he knew this girl was just a distraction but it wasn’t working. He wanted to taste you again, see what it would be like to taste your blood fresh from your neck. He groans at the idea and keeps nipping at the girl’s neck.

She starts getting restless as Elvis is so laser-focused on her neck.

“Elvis please,” she begs.

“Fuck, y/n,” he growls.

She freezes, “that’s not my name,” she grumbles.

“Sorry, give me a second honey,” he grumbles, trying to refocus on her scent and not yours.

She pulls him closer and rubs his soft length, trying to tease him. She’s a little surprised he’s not physically aroused as she pulls her neck away from him.

“Are you okay? Do you want me?” She asks slightly annoyed.

No, I don’t, he thinks flatly.

I want y/n. I want her all to myself and feed on that beautiful, beckoning body of hers…

Fuck, stop! You can’t have her! She’s too innocent to ruin her like that, he thinks. Just feed off of this girl and get over y/n.

He looks back at Amy and gives her a cute smile.

“Of course I do, I just wanna tease you a little more,” he coos, giving her a soft kiss on the lips. She smiles at that thought and goes back to touching him. He tries to get himself to focus on how she feels in his hands. Her skin was soft and supple around her hips. She liked it when he squeezed her tighter and started to nip at her neck. He feels her hands go to unbutton his pants and he grunts when he feels her hand wrap around his length.

Another image of your hand flashes in his head and his hips involuntarily buck into her hand.

“Fuck,” he groans.

Jesus, focus. Focus on anything but y/n jerking your cock in her hand, he thinks frustratedly.

It doesn’t work. All he wants is you.

She groans when she watches him get hard in her hand. His mind keeps going back to you time and time again. Wishing you were the one making him hard and wanting more. It’s terrible, he shouldn’t be thinking like this but you’ve got a hold on him it seems. All he can do is try to focus on her rising heartbeat and the way he can smell her blood coursing through her veins. He could feel his eyes start to shift, his blood lust overtaking his coherent thoughts. He lays her back on the bed, making sure she can’t see his changing eyes. He teases her entrance, rubbing his tip through her folds. She moans loudly, clutching onto his arms tightly. He quickly goes back to nipping her neck, feeling his fangs start to descend.

Bite her, now.

He grunts quietly and slides in a few inches of his cock inside her. She groans louder and squirms underneath him.

“Fuck Elvis. You feel so damn good,” she whimpers.

“Mhmm baby,” he grumbles, sucking her neck, getting that spot ready to sink his teeth into.

He swivels his hips into her more as he keeps his eyes closed, trying to not scare her by the state of his eyes. But this is an awful idea, all he sees is your face and your pleading eyes.

“Fuck, y/n,” Elvis grunts.

Oh God, this isn’t good. He can’t get you off his mind to save his life.

“What?” She asks confused.

“Oh baby nothing,” he coos, but extremely frustrated at himself.

He can’t hold on anymore and sinks his teeth into her neck. She lets out a loud scream, the pain of his fangs branding into her neck. Elvis starts to suck the blood out of her greedily, swallowing mouthfuls and ready to feel his energy start to rise. But this was different, he didn’t feel that much better than before. In fact, he didn’t want to feed anymore because all he could do was compare how you tasted to her.

A little panic sets in.

Oh God, what is happening to me? How can I crave one little human’s blood this much that it ruins all others for me? I just met her, she means nothing to me…

He carefully takes his fangs out of her and tries to get his appearance back to a normal human state. It was difficult at first, the smell of you lingered in his head and his imagination was running wild which did not help at all. Once he regained focus and control of his fangs to disappear, he looked back at Amy, mortified with what she had seen.

“What did you-,” she starts to say mortified but Elvis cuts her off, knowing he needs to get her to forget that part.

“Nothing honey. I didn’t bite you, you didn’t feel any pain, you won’t remember that part,” he compels. She takes a sharp breath and he watches as the memory fades from her eyes.

He spreads her legs wider, thrusting in and out of her faster and making her feel a wave of intense pleasure. She moans loudly, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

“That’s right baby, take my cock like that. Makes you feel so good hmm?” He asks. She gasps for air, writhing underneath him.

“Yes, Elvis, oh my god,” she groans.

He was still too frazzled that he didn’t like feeding tonight. He’s never felt like this since he was always so hungry. He couldn’t fuck this girl anymore, he couldn’t care to keep up this charade.

He glides his hand down her body and finds her swollen bud. He rubs it in concentrated circles and it makes her buck her hips off the bed.

“I want you to come for me,” he tells her, edging her closer and closer to release. It doesn’t take long until she’s screaming his name and her walls are squeezing around his cock. It wasn’t anything mind-blowing to Elvis, his mind was on you and nothing else. He didn’t enjoy sex the same as humans. There was a time when he could enjoy it but tonight was not the night. He was done with entertaining this girl and just wanted some peace and quiet to figure out what was going on with him.

He pulled out of her gently, pulling down her dress and bending down to pull up his own pants. She sits up a little dazed and confused when she watches him stuff his hard cock back into his pants.

“Did you not like it?” She asks a little hurt.

He goes to place a soft kiss on her cheek and smiles when he looks back at her. Convincing as ever.

“Of course I did. I loved every second of it,” he coos.

Fucking liar.

She believed him and grinned sweetly at him.

“Oh good I’m glad. I’m here for a few more days if you ever want to spend some more time together,” she says flirtatiously.

I’d rather never see you again, he thinks.

“That would be wonderful darlin’,” he says with a smile. “Thank you for stopping by. I do need to get ready for my show now,” he says gently. She was understanding and started to get up off the bed.

Elvis leads her out to the front door and gives her one last kiss before she leaves, smiling sweetly. Once she turns her back, his smile fades and he closes the door.

He doesn’t know whether to panic or not over this whole situation. How could he have had so little of your blood and yet he was so fulfilled? Why couldn't he compel you either? Was he that weak?

It was terrifying for him in a way. All blood was the same to him, not one was better than the next. As long as it came from someone’s warm neck, he was fine. But now, you’ve changed everything. It scared him, but he knew he wouldn’t be the same from this point forward.

•

Tagging: @powerotelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters@flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic@claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis presely smut #70s elvis #vampire Elvis #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis fans #elvis fanfiction

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ficsinhistory · 11 months

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Spider sense and bonds - A meta about the bond of Miles and Gwen.

Hello, hello, tumblr fellas! The final scene where Gwen senses Miles in danger even in another universe has been rent free in my head for the past month, so I've tried to think of how that works.

(If you want to comment on something here, please do! I love hearing what others have to say!)

Let's go! Let's start with what we know. Spider Sense is in the movies:

Just like in the comics, I'm assuming that Spider Sense exists thanks to the Web of Life and Destiny.

(Beatiful, isn't it?)

Being a clairvoyant power of certain level, it works with what can happen and the most relevant will be warned to the spider. In we have -

a. A danger sensor, be it yours or a loved one of the spider in question. Like Miles and Jeff in the spot fight at the beginning of the movie.

Or Pav and Gayatri in the bridge scene.

b. A sort of sensor for other spiders. In the first movie, that's how Miles and all the other spiders were able to connect and recognize each other.

However, this does not happen so often in ATSV, with just Margo and Miles at Society HQ

(Remember this information, it is important.)

Which brings me to my theory.

Spider sense works as a connection and communication between the Web of Life and Destiny with the spider, which studies all the possibilities that can happen and warns and guides the spider to the event.

Most often with imminent danger.

In the case of Miles and Gwen, like bonds of compatibility, guiding them since they met and only deepening over time.

Gwen felt Miles even in completely different universes because they are the multiversal soul mates most appropriate to each other among the possibilities of the Web of Life and Destiny.

And don't get me wrong, they don't have that connection because they're a couple written in stone by some higher force. Because the Web, the Spider Sense, doesn't work with anything written in stone (including that's where Miguel made a mistake).

If they had never met, they could fall in love and live happily with other people. But they are each other's ideal people. The best compatibility of each other. And that it would only be enough: for them to coexist, to have the possibility of seeing each other, and boom! This connection so strong that it could exist was put to roll.

That's why Gwen was taken to Visions even before Miles was stung. That's why she feels Miles universes away. Of the probabilities in entire realities, they are the ones that work the best. The multiverse judged it that way and guided them and guided them, because they looked alike and because they worked, not because they were destined to do so.

(After all, the whole theme of the movies is about fate is bs and it's more about the odds and your actions on things, so...)

And you must be wondering: why Miles then doesn't feel Gwen the same way? And got that instant hookup vibe with Margo instead?

Here comes the fun part.

Our Gwen from Earth-65 is the best match for Miles Morales, the boy from Earth-1610. And Margo with Spider-Man from Earth-42. Miles from Earth-42. And as Miles was bitten by the spider from Earth-42, Margo and Miles felt that residual connection. (And so I call Prowlerbyte in Beyond)

Remember I said it's not Destiny? Our Gwen and Miles work, but not all versions of them will work. Some are, some aren't (yes, Earth-8 can still be a thing, no worries.)

And that's their fun!

They fall in love, love each other, because they are the best for each other. Because they, just like in real life, found each other and clicked.

They are soulmates because they love each other, and they don't love each other because they are soulmates.

#across the spiderverse #Gwiles #Ghostflower #miles x gwen #gwen stacy #miles morales #Spiderverse #Meta

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sirfrogsworth · 4 months

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Very personal question so I understand if you don't want to answer. Did your diagnosis feel like a relief, socially? Mine isn't the same, but on one hand I feel relieved to have an "excuse" for being so friggin tired all the time. Society can't "morally" call me weak or lazy anymore. I can actually get some of the rest I need, without people judging me as harshly for it. No one's going to smack a chemo patient and tell me to be productive at all times... I find it sad that I have to have a justification for being exhausted. Nothing's really changed besides a label, but I'm suddenly allowed to feel like shit when I wasn't before.

I have a weird relationship with my diagnosis.

CFS doesn't have a blood test. It doesn't have a genre of specialists who are trained with a specific diagnostic protocol. The only CFS specialists are doctors who took it upon themselves to learn more about the condition and then self-label as specialists. Which unfortunately means there is a high rate of CFS quacks.

To get a diagnosis you have to go to every doctor you can think of, in every specialty you can think of, and gather negative diagnoses like Pokemon. And once you have ruled everything out, you have to find a doctor that kinda/sorta knows what CFS is, and they will officially declare you have tried everything and *probably* have CFS.

And even though most people with CFS are 99.9999% sure they have CFS, there is still that anxiety in the back of our minds that can't help but doubt.

Then there is the social stigma (which is improving) where new people you encounter, doctors, and sometimes even close friends and family, will very much doubt you have the illness. They might think you are being dramatic. Or you are exaggerating. Or they will think you have depression for years and shock your brain. They will think "Well, I get tired too." Or they won't believe there is nothing you can do about it. They still have that mindset "If I had that, I could get better." Or they will think, "If I had that, I could push through it with my epic constitution and boomer work ethic."

So, honestly, I am still kind of waiting for my diagnosis in a way. Every year or so an article will drop saying "The CFS blood test is almost here!" and then no further details. That damned blood test has been coming every year for like 15 years now. It's like cold fusion.

But I will say, when something else is wrong with me and there is a definitive test or a firm diagnosis from a proper specialist—that definitely feels like a relief. I am so tired of my body manifesting medical mysteries that even when something is terribly wrong with me, if I know exactly what it is, I am almost chuffed about it.

Doctor: The blood tests came back and you have life threatening sepsis. We will need to perform surgery to remove a giant piece of your back skin.

Me: Neat!

True story. (Warning: Very gross)

When I took my sleep study nap test and they were like, "Yep, you got narcolepsy as well." I was so happy that I had a "real" illness that I could use to convince doubters I was sick. Unfortunately everyone thinks narcolepsy is just falling asleep at weird times and they don't understand it much beyond that. So that wasn't as helpful as I initially hoped.

Now that Long COVID is causing serious cases of CFS, I have noticed a few people taking it a bit more seriously. But I have two uncles who think I am weak and lazy and was just mooching off my parents for 20 years. And apparently I have been disowned from that side of the family because of it.

But if that blood test ever actually happens I will come back to this post and let you know.

I'm sorry you required a diagnosis for people to take you seriously. But I hope your treatment is successful and you can just be healthy and not have to worry about stigmas. I'm rooting for you. Get that rest and take care of yourself.

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randomness-is-my-order · 5 months

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one of the main reasons for why the gods as as they are–largely selfish, unfair, immature and insular–is because they don’t operate on the same power levels as humans do. their influence is unfathomably immense and their power is hugely unchecked. their responsibilities aren’t a marked thing, either, so shirking them doesn’t always promise proportionate consequences. they exist in this limbo of otherworldly power that is beyond human grasp and thereby their behavior appears so erratic and absurd and full of bullshit to us. that’s why there’s a constant affirmation of “well, don’t try to understand what the gods do, it’ll drive you crazy” in the show itself.

BUT while all of this may be true, i think the message of the books & show ultimately is that be it a mortal human or a centuries old god, your morality is something that should still be judged on the same parameters. just because you can control the sea or embody the essence of war or cause firestorms or bring on lightning showers doesn’t mean you get to hurt those who don’t deserve it, doesn’t mean you get to mess with the lives of those you deem “below” your status. if the king of gods is being a dick, you can call him a dick. if athena is an unjust prideful bitch you can call her out on it. if poseidon is deadbeat father you can say that with your full chest. you don’t need to contextualise their actions or justify them. rationalise them? yeah, maybe so, but not more than that because why tf is it the burden of the demigods to understand these ancient powerful beings when said beings never initiate constructive and emotionally engaged dialogue with any of them? why do they need to dishonour their own feelings of hurt to avoid disrespecting the gods despite them deserving a bad reaction (a recent eg would be annabeth thinking athena’s actions are a proper retaliation for a perceived “slight”, instead of expressing her own hurt at her mother’s betrayal)?

because isn’t that exactly the kind of issue we face in the real world? we can all logically infer that there is literally NO ethical way of becoming a billionaire, then, well, do you think there’s an ethical way of being a god–atleast a major one with a physical domain? an ethical way of having control of some major element and constantly meddling with affairs of the mortal world, while full well displaying a lack of understanding of humans? just the way the gods are in the books, in the show? yes the gods have feelings and yes they are allowed to make mistakes (and doesn’t this make me laugh, because to err is to be human and all) but their actions are also allowed to be called out by demigods if they’re being hurt. their whole relationship with humanity is a two-way street anyway.

and with all that said, i think percy is a very much needed kick-in-the-shins for the gods in the series, a young demigod who refuses to dance to the gods’ tunes and stands up to them and even calls them out and strips down this idea that godhood is something superior, that godhood frees one from scrutiny and criticism.

this is just a very weird ramble and i have way more thoughts on the matter but i’ll have to take some time and wrangle it all into coherence.

for now, to summarise: the gods suck and i love when percy makes them aware of that fact.

#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy pjo #pjo tv adaptation #pjo tv series #walker scobell #percy appreciation

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finalgirlsamwinchester · 1 month

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realised. dean is the perfect viewer avatar for a horror show. he gets to be both the action hero and the quippy, self-aware wiseguy who knows he's in a horror show. he provides a safe point; a comfortable power fantasy for you to experience a story through. he's ash in the evil dead. he's a gunslinging tough guy, and you get to see those moments where heroism sits on his shoulders like an ill-fitting leather jacket. and even when he gets his turn at being captured and victimised by the narrative, it's filtered through this mythic lens first. he's the tormented hero; tortured by villains, tortured by the constraints of his role. yeah he gets bruised, beaten bloody to a pulp, torn to shreds and killed, but his perception of reality never gets thrown into serious doubt (unless it's played out as a gag). the narrative valorises his sense of right and wrong, because that's what heroic stories do. their heroes provide moral center, regardless of how we might judge them. the lines dividing hero, anti-hero, and villian are paper thin, and dean isn't truly ever allowed to be ambiguous. and the hero always wins in the end, even when he dies.

meanwhile sam is the abject object of the horror show, a character who gets trussed up, chased, tied up, ripped apart, cut into, possessed, exploited, manipulated and psychologically hounded. he's carrie covered in pig's blood. he's the marginal person people are cheering on either to die - or to live past it all. he gets his turn at playing both movie monster and victim, always occupying the liminal space between both. abject horror lives within him. he's violated with demon blood, he consumes demon blood. he hates halloween because he vomited his guts up in front of a room of normal children. he will never get to be normal, he's designated the freak on multiple levels, but most significantly, by the way his narrative frames him. he's living inside a world that is at its core, fundamentally frightening and horrifying - full control over himself and his surroundings is always slipping away, just beyond his reach. his grip on reality and the world around him gets thrown into question by the story consistently. what's right? what's wrong? what's real? what isnt? the narrative punishes him - because that's what happens to you when you're living in a horror. he can never run away from his nightmare reality, it catches up to him like a curse nipping at his heels. the only way out for him is through the punishing fire. in order to survive, he's required to be pushed to the absolute brink of instability; emotionally, physically and mentally. he emerges out the other end, barely holding it together but somehow alive - like the bloody final girl, changed irrevocably by what she's experienced.

#FINALLY releasing this. oof #finalgirlsamwinchester blog thesis statement #i do also think this is where the fundamental tension between how both brothers are treated by the narrative and the audience comes from.#it's interesting that the moment the show swaps into a grand heroic narrative (s4-5) its perspective shifts primarily to dean's #and as the show grew into becoming a primarily action adventure narrative. dean takes center stage! that's his home genre!#sam fades away bc ultimately. the kind of horror he lives in isn't appealing to the Generalist possible audience.#at the end of the day. guy designated as The Freak has less mainstream appeal :((#sam monstrosity studies #my meta #j.txt

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icarusbetide · 1 month

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#save elizabeth schuyler hamilton from male biographers 2024

Just got pissed off so bad. I'm in the middle of reading Burr, Hamilton, and Jefferson: A Study in Character, which presents an intriguing argument that Burr deserves to be put back into the Founding Father Pantheon, so to speak. The author doesn't shy away from hitting hard against the idea that Jeff & Ham were morally superior to Burr, and I was on board! Ready to go!

But then. During the discussion of the women in each of their lives, the author decides the best way to further promote Burr's attitude towards women compared to Jefferson and Hamilton is to disparage Martha Jefferson & Elizabeth Hamilton?

On Martha Jefferson:

Martha Wayles Skelton had been a widow, and none of Jefferson's biographers, even the resourceful Fawn Brodie, has been able to tell us much about her—from the solitary letter remaining to us in her hand or the accounts of their contemporaries—beyond the general impression that she was handsome, musical, and frail.

On Elizabeth Hamilton:

Hamilton's Elizabeth was an heiress, the daughter of an upstate squire, Philip Schuyler, with Livingston and van Rensselaer connections. She was plain, straightforward, loyal, and neurasthenic, endured his flagrant and frequent infidelities, and lived to the brink of the Civil War.

I'm sorry, I don't know enough about Martha J. to protest to her characterization, but I think I can say something about Eliza. Plain? Neurasthenic? And once again, annoyed at the lack of citation or evidence for flagrant and frequent infidelities - but putting that aside, even if it were true, I don't like how her staying in her marriage is subtly implied to be some failure or at least less interesting than a woman who didn't "endure" them. There's a lack of consideration of both her own strength & the societal circumstances of that time that would have influenced her actions.

On Theodosia:

Her character emerges from their large and fervent correspondence. She was confident, well connected, well read, beautiful even after a burn scarred her face, witty, worldly, and full of expectations of him.

Okay. The author saw the point and it sailed over his head. "From their large and fervent correspondence" is key here. Like I said earlier, I don't know enough about Martha Jefferson, but I bet that "handsome, musical, frail" is probably not an all-encompassing picture of her. The similarity between her and Eliza? We don't have the letters that they wrote to their husbands. It's unfair to judge Theodosia (don't get me wrong! she was well read and intelligent, that's not what i'm denying) from her correspondence with Burr, but then not acknowledge that the lack of that perspective would impact how we view the other two women.

And to top it all off:

Unlike Jefferson's and Hamilton's, Burr's character was molded by the love of a woman of immense force and intelligence.

Neither Hamilton nor Jefferson married a woman who evidenced such force of character and independence of view.

Jesus Christ. There's plenty to criticize about Jefferson & Hamilton, and I really wanted to see a well-reasoned argument about Burr's character and whatnot but this lacks nuance and is unnecessarily dismissive. It pisses me off that a book that seems determined to break down the idolized version of Hamilton, somehow ends up using his wife to further their angle, just like biased Hamiltonian biographies. In both cases, Eliza is the plain, unintelligent, steadfast wife. For sympathetic authors like Chernow, that's somehow justification for the Reynolds affair. For Roger G. Kennedy, that's used in an argument against her husband. "Let's talk attitude towards women! Hamilton & Jefferson didn't have intellectual wives! Point for Burr!"

I don't know nearly enough about Martha Jefferson to say anything of merit, but really?

To give credit where credit is due, I think Kennedy is trying to make the point here that Theodosia Bartow Burr was a major influence on Burr, as "Burr's character blossomed in the radiance of his wife and mentor". He also goes on to talk about various genuine reasons why Burr's attitude towards women is noteworthy. But I still don't like the way he dismissed the other two women as what? Not smart enough to help their husbands' characters blossom? Maybe there's merit to this book outside of this one section, The Women, but right now I'm not in the mood. Am I being dramatic? Idk.

#aughh i'm pissed so maybe i'm being too dramatic #idk let's post it on the internet for everyone to see. smart decision.#alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #aaron burr #martha jefferson #elizabeth schuyler #elizabeth hamilton #theodosia bartow burr #historical hamilton #amrev #elizabeth schuyler hamilton

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boylikeanangel · 8 months

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I'm absolutely bonkers over the commentary that ofmd s2 is giving us on morality and redemption actually.

specifically what ed's conversation with hornigold after realising he's in purgatory says for the wider messaging this show has on the idea of retribution. because when he asks "who decides whether I live or die? you?" and hornigold says "no (...) this is on you" it kind of really does call into question a lot of big ideas about the stance this show is taking on what makes someone a good person, or more specifically, what makes someone worthy of being able to live, and ultimately be happy.

it's not like hornigold is some kind of arbiter or higher power with the ability to dictate ed's fate. no one sent hornigold to judge him. ed brought him here himself so they could talk it through and he could decide for himself what the answer is, whether he knows it or not. it's not about god or anything else like that choosing who gets to live and who gets to die. morals don't come into it. it's not about who deserves to live.

it's about who has the strength to try.

and for a show that deals with a cast whom the majority of are objectively bad people, that's such a fucking interesting and actually really enlightening position to take. if this was the kind of show that concerned itself too much with morals or trying to define objective goodness or badness, it'd get very stuck when trying to flesh out a fully realised development arc for its main characters, and they were very smart to not spend too much time trying to answer those questions. in fact, I'd argue that it actively rallies against the notion that only certain kinds of people are redeemable or deserve happiness.

both ed and stede have lived for most of their lives believing they are irredeemable, even that they deserve to die, but they both in turn later have to contend with the truth that they actually don't want to (stede first of all when he kills nigel, then later on faces the firing squad and literally breaks down at the sudden certainty of his death, and ed in the most recent episode). they want to live. they just have a hard time believing there's any reason why they should be able to. it's like they've been waiting for permission. but permission has nothing to do with it. no one's going to decide for you. there's no higher power that tells you an absolute "yes, you deserve another chance" or "no, you're beyond hope". you have to make that decision for yourself.

when stede is first faced with death, that's the first time we hear the question that now echoes across the entire series again and again.

"do you want to live?"

and stede is, in that moment, contending with the realisation, for the first time, that he might be a terrible person. and in that moment he doesn't know how to answer that question, because in that moment he realises he might not deserve to live. but oluwande is asking him, plain and simple, do you WANT to? and he says yes. despite everything, he wants to live. and so our story begins. a story not necessarily about redemption, but about rebirth. about choosing to live, even if you don't think you've earned the right.

and in the first three episodes of season 2, we see ed go through the same motions as he contends with everything he's done. like, hornigold is literally a manifestation of all the terrible things ed's done and the things he hates about himself! and he looked ed in the eye and told him "I don't dictate whether you get to live or die. you have to decide that for yourself. not based on what you think about yourself, or whatever you think you deserve to, but based on if you want to or not".

he's literally faced with the human embodiment of every evil, reprehensible thing he's done, and it tells him that it doesn't decide. that's not what this is about. they don't weigh up what ed's done, about where he crossed the line, about what he can and can't take back or undo, not even about what ed likes about himself, but very simply, what ed likes about living.

like, answering the question "at what point does someone become irredeemable" is an extremely difficult line to tread, and this show could have so easily slipped up whilst trying to answer that question, considering that the majority of its main cast are, yknow, thieves and murderers. ed more than any of them. and yet he's the romantic object of this season. and they make that work by not concerning themselves or anyone else with tricky moral lamentations about goodness or evil. what they ask instead is, "is any of that a reason to give up?"

dying is not a victory. dying is not even necessarily retribution. dying is the only reason things will never get better. even if you think trying to put things right and live a better life is impossible. and it might be impossible. but you will never know unless you try. you might fail but you have a 100% better chance of making things right and doing better if you choose to live than you would if you chose to die. and that's absolutely the journey ed's going on this season.

one thing in particular I'm so glad they've abandoned is that thread about ed not killing people. because it unnecessarily complicated the moral framework of the show and put a kind of expectation on ed's actions that were too hard to maintain with the direction they wanted to take his character this season. they knew it would only muddy the waters when it came to paving out his journey to something better, and I'm glad they took the time to establish that ultimately it was only something that mattered to him, not the narrative. to him it was like he could maintain some semblance of being a half decent person if he only ever killed one person. but now that's gone. he's broken the one rule he had for himself, the one thing holding him back from going off the deep end. and the question remains, can he still come back from this? can he still put things right and fight for a better life for himself? when quite literally all is lost, can you still find it again? and ultimately, the answer is going to be yes. no matter what he's done.

I don't know how much exactly if at all of this is in response to some pushback they got last season about how their main cast are, when all is said and done, pretty bad people, but either way they came out of the gate this season saying actually yeah, you're right. they are bad people. but that doesn't mean they don't deserve a chance at happiness. that's our thesis, actually. it fucking threads that needle and embroiders itself perfectly into the stede-centric narrative last season that told us reinvention was always possible and it was never too late to start afresh once you know what you want from life and it's fucking beautiful. I can't believe they took the moral ambiguity of its principle characters and turned it into the POINT. and I cannot stress this enough, it did this in THREE episodes. I love this show so so much we are so fucking back.

#this isnt as detailed as id like it to be but its already so long #ill probably make a more detailed response later on in the season when we got more stuff for eds arc #our flag means death #meta tag #ofmd spoilers

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