#something she deals with & overcomes in perpetuity

[genericpuff]

Honestly it’s getting tiring seeing the sobbing chronically of the cast ; Hera , Demeter, Persephone and probably more . Like it’s giving big baby cry cry energy instead of idk something proactive. Not sure if It’s just me getting that from the latest chapters???

I have two schools of thought on this.

On the one hand, I can fully understand wanting to show the vulnerability of these characters, to not send a message that emotions are bad and that people should just "toughen up". This is trying to be a "feminist" piece of work after all, and much of feminism preaches vulnerability and empathy and allowing oneself to get back in touch with their own emotions, rather than shutting themselves away from them which is often perpetuated by the societal expectations and norms of toxic masculinity.

Persephone crying as she confronts Apollo - the man who she now understands assaulted her - is understandable and real. A reasonable reaction to an emotional situation that many people can empathize with.

Hera crying as she reveals the true extent of the damage Kronos caused her is understandable and real. He's quite literally been stalking her in the recesses of her mind and it's reaching a breaking point.

But on the other hand, there's a difference between wanting to show a character showing their emotions and then learning to overcome the challenges they've presented with - whether they do it independently or learn to trust in others to help them - thus growing in the process and coming out stronger on the other side vs. using a character purely for torture porn. As much as we preach concepts like "normalize crying" in a very simplified way for the sake of being easily understood, such simplifications often result in a lack of nuance.

An entirely other subject to use as a comparison point to explain this nuance - it's like the difference between having a character who's become so jaded and disconnected from the concept of empathy that even murder becomes just a menial task to them vs. murderhobos. Murderhobos are not interesting or complex or empathetic or relatable, they're just written (and in the case of where the term comes from - Dungeons & Dragons - played) for the sole purpose of having an edgy uncaring character who thinks they're free from consequences while they fuck up the lives of everyone around them in a completely irredeemable way (and is often protected from such consequences due to plot armor, unless it's in D&D, in which case you'll likely be politely asked to either change your character for the sake of the campaign or leave.)

There's nothing to gain or learn from murderhobos. They only exist for the satisfaction of an ego complex - "I don't care what you want or how it affects the people around me, I want to kill people without consequences because that's as creative as my imagination can get in my own personal fantasy."

There's nothing to gain or grow from anymore when we get another scene of Hera bleeding mascara as she cries over her situation with Kronos while still refusing to actually tell anyone what's going on with Kronos, despite the fact that we had an entire fucking therapy speak episode where she realized she needed help. So it feels like it's purely there just to play on the trope of "sad woman is saaaad, won't anyone help herrrr?" which is really starting to learn into learned helplessness.

This is especially apparent with Persephone, who, upon causing a massive problem for everyone, has taken it upon herself to shut herself away while her loved ones deal with the problem. If she needs the time to cry and process what's going on, that's fine. But while that's happening, we know mortals are dying and that she's turning the situation into a learned helplessness pity party of "I'm a monsterrr and no one likes meeee :((((" while having zero self-awareness that yeah, she did cause this problem, and her locking herself away in her literal mansion isn't exactly going to help the situation.

I've already used Tamberlane as an example of approaching the subject of learned helplessness and how it's fundamentally different from simply being vulnerable and having emotions, but I'm gonna share it again here because it's really relevant and Persephone needs someone to give her this same wake-up call.

Considering Demeter was the one to approach her at the end of the last episode, I'm hoping she'll be the one to broach the topic with her, but judging by how Rachel's treated it so far with every character reassuring her with empty platitudes that accomplish nothing but comforting Persephone over something she caused like "Noooo you're not a monster, you're the best queen ever and you're trying her best!!" (and the fact that Rachel has spent so much time turning Demeter into public enemy #1 that her readers still can't fucking give her any shred of empathy even after finding out she lost a child, fucking yikes) I'm not holding my breath that this week's episode is gonna actually have that same level of emotional maturity or growth. This is the second time in the entire comic we've seen Persephone suffer the consequences of her actions out of many that have been harmful, some accidental, others very intentional (which Rachel has even supported her doing in a very unironic sense, it's safe to say Rachel really truly does believe that Persephone is entitled to abuse people). And judging by how things went the first time, it's hard to have the benefit of the doubt and assume Persephone is gonna actually take accountability and learn and grow from this. She didn't the last time and her character has only devolved since.

Sure, feeling like you've fucked up to such a monumental degree that you'll never be able to show your face in public again is something that's real and relatable and worth crying over... but crying is an emotional response, not the actual solution. It is a PART of expressing and processing emotions, but ultimately those emotions are not actions, just REactions. Crying is okay, crying is a normal response to grief and sadness, but if you don't actually take steps forward and continue to wallow in the sadness, blame everyone else around you for it, and simultaneously rely on everyone else to carry the burden of your own actions for you, then that's when it exits the realm of healthy emotional processing and broaches the unhealthy realm of learned helplessness and emotional manipulation.

If anything, her entire monologue in the last FP episode was more about Rachel being upset over criticism of her comic and her self-insert that, like Persephone's deal with Erebus and the "plague" that followed, she earned over not addressing the issues in her work sooner and instead choosing to double down - both through Persephone's abusive behavior within the narrative and Rachel's passive aggressive meta-commentary on that abuse being okay because "she's earned the right to lash out".

The only people in this entire comic who have "earned the right to lash out" are the women that Rachel has villainized along the way in the pursuit of giving her self-insert everything without effort or sacrifice. And even then those people would still have to rightfully answer for their wrongs and grow from them - because there is no right to abuse, there is no right to harming others, especially not if the "others" you're harming are people who were victims in their own right that you turned into imaginary enemies so you could have someone to punch down at in the absence of a spine to stand up for yourself against the real perpetrators. And in doing so, Persephone herself has become a perpetrator, who sheds crocodile tears that no one is buying because the writing is on the fucking wall.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ask me anything #anon ama

[kojikanokangaetano]

Across the Spiderverse, Perpetual victimhood and the possibility of youth as shown by Miles and Miguel (+ Hobie)

Tldr because this might be long: Movie good; Miguel is stuck in a state of being the perpetual victim and has dragged down other spideys with him, while Miles is fighting against being ever put in this position, which is why they compliment each other perfectly as foils

So, rambling incoming- I have a lot of thoughts regarding Miguel and have only seen the movie once so far so please forgive me if I got something wrong- only based on the movie(s)

I believe that Miguel O´hara, as well as Miles, are supposed to showcase the approaches of being victimized and how they deal with their experiences, respectively.

Point one: Parent -teacher talk:

In the first scene predominantly featuring Miles, the teacher and his parents are supposed to talk about his academic future, in which the teacher specifically points out Miles supposed "struggles"- however, his parents, as well as Miles himself, are quick to point out that they had a lot of opportunities and are living a good life in Brooklyn, which is shown by the community + family participating in a rooftop party for Jeffersons promotion (+ the "we have a car statement"). However, the teacher reiterates her point of how "They always struggle" somehow and urges to make that point about himself the anchor of his, still blank, "universe".

Point two: Miles´ future aspirations

During the talk, it is shown how Miles sees his parting with the spider-gang from itsv as a mere temporary hindrance, something that can be overcome if he just tries himself at overcoming the wall that is the existence of multiple universes. Even though in the first film it was clearly established that he enjoys his art primarily, he is willing to put that on the backburner and reevaluate his priorities to reach certain goals (seeing Gwen, Peter B., Peni, Noir and Ham) BEFORE pursuing his other passions.- Miles is shown to articulate this actually pretty well to his parents- sure, his dream of meeting them again might be spurred on by a childlike will to belong, but he is clearly able to reason with his parents who are objecting to princeton university at first.

Point three: Dealing with his uncles death

During the whole runtime, it is shown again and again how, instead of letting the death of his uncle drag him down, he is uplifted by his memory and his last words. They are defining for him and what he has achieved since then. It is even shown during the flashback-scene in Miguels lab (?) that even peter B. is not able to keep his eyes on his respective uncles´´ death, but Miles is shown to aknowledge not only his OWN pain, but moreso try to empathize with other spideys in attendance.(will touch upon this later)

How does Miguel play into all of this?

Contrary to Miles, Miguel is shown to be standoffish and unempathizing unless pressed into being soft (taking Gwen reluctantly while she is held at gunpoint with her identity exposed btw). He is shown in his first unmasked scene to be reminisicing about his family, replaying the few happy memories he had with them most likely over and over. Unlike Miles, he reminds himself not only of the positive aspects of what his family stands for, but the MISTAKE they represent to him specifically. This ties into the straight up spiteful way he deals with Miles.

Point one: Miguel uses Miles as a scapegoat

He hates Miles because he blames him. While he talks about the fact that he messed up, it becomes clear during the following talk -and chase- that he, in actuality, blames Miles for everything that happened. Miles is the "orginal Anomaly" and as such the reason why Miguel was compelled to build the universe-hopping-watches. This, subsequently, made him (want to?) find a family. Without Miles getting bitten, he would have never committed the mistake in the first place- As such, Miguel is pushing all the blame on Miles- Miles forced him to act, so the family he had and lost were all because of Miles becoming a spiderman when he wasnt supposed to- easy, right? This is an integral way of thought that also is reflected in the plot.

Point two: Victim-mentality and being "a vicitim of the narrative"

Not only is it most likely used to ctritique the state of the current spidey-comics, of which there has been a huge stir recently(that I dont know that much about, sadly), but it also ties into the mindset of Miguel. He has become jaded (by age and lived experience) and is lost in his perspective of being a victim. Because of this, it has become a necessity to blame anything and anyone to push away his own guilt- in the end, Miles never actively pressured him to find a family and mess up a whole universe while doing so. But even if this shouldnt apply, Miguel has a backdoor for his poor rationalization: It was always unavoidable- the game was never meant to be won, especially as a spider-person. Its freeing and gives him the possibility to atone and distract himself from his wrongdoings, while channeling his anger towards his "true" enemy- Miles.

This is even moreso shown to the audience as to how he has made every other spidey think the same way he does (exceptions made for Hobie and others later on). It is freeing for these peters, too,to know that they werent at fault- if everyone but them is at fault, how are they supposed to feel any guilt? Miguel essentially made the majority of spideys vicitms in their own stories. They have become mere pawns in their narratives and, in turn, entered a "victim mentality". In essence a self-fulfilling prophecy.Only characters like Miles and Hobie see through such a narrow way of thinking.

Spiderpunk - and why he is the most important new player for Miles (and across the spiderverse)

Hobie, my man, number one instigator- spiderpunk, right from his entrance, is shown to be just different from most other spideys. he, right after meeting Miles for the first time (and knowing about his special status as an "anomaly" already), is seen helping him out. He straight up even tries to prevent him from going to HQ, sensing something is up. While on their way to Miguel, he questions Gwen regarding what she must have NOT told Miles and starts stealing parts for a makeshift watch later on.

He even tries to talk sense into Miles and the fact that he is living a good life (even with the likely knowledge of Uncle Aarons death). Which Miles, like everything else, pushes aside because of his need for "true" companionship in form of the spidey-society. Also, the line "knowing about which war you enlist in"- wow, like damn

Uncle Ben

When shown the flashbacks of everyones Uncle Ben, Miles sees Peter B.s and others Uncles in their last moments as a "canon event",playing out before him. At one point, he turns to Hobie and asks specifically if he also went trough this, him having been the outlier up until now. Hobie only turns away, seemingly uncomfortable with the comment "What about it"- Hobie rejects Miguels notion of one laid out event pushing his identity into a specific direction. He detests the idea of being a victim and actively tries to show this mutliple times in his demeanor. He may have suffered loss, but who doesnt? How is this an indicator of being spiderman? He is himself because he wants to be himself, loss be damned. Aknowledging the fact that there might be things that make him a mere player in a narrative, to be written into scenarios already thought out, makes him obviously unhappy- and maybe even feel like he is being instrumentalized-.

Hobie and Miles

Hobie sees the way Miles, akin to Pavtir/Spider-Man India, says "I can do both", a.k.a- "doing whats right" being put BEFORE what the rules would tell you. In conjunction with his mere existence as a sign of "rebellion" and "anomaly" it becomes only natural for him to be the one to stick up for him (telling spiderwoman "good" when told he isnt helping her.) and being the one that effectively breaks out Miles from his electric cage. Hobie sees the spark of freedom and possbility in Miles, something that he must have missed while being at HQ. When things escalate and he sees that Miguel will stick to his guns and toxic mindset, he just, dips. He even leaves his watch, refusing to profit from anything given to him by an organization that doesnt align with his moral code.

Conclusion

Spiderverse never fails to impress. Like, wow- Miles mere existence, that "anybody could wear the mask", even someone that was supposed to become the damn Prowler, is merely dismissed by Miguel and others, them entirely caught in their own sorrow and perpetual state of self-assigned victimhood. Spiderverse shows that actively struggling and trying to break molds and systems that you dont agree with (Miles just trying his best and being uplifted by positive influences, putting his all into his aspirations, even with the outcome being unclear, Spiderpunks whole existence) is the only real way out of being a victim of your own story. He is doing his own thing, and just trusting the leap of faith he has commited himself to again and again, something that Miguel has rejected entirely by now. He in turn finds comfort in the role of a self-appointed martyr and self-sacrifizing head of the spidey-society („I have been the one holding it all together“, etc.). Him realizing that maybe, just maybe, Miles wasnt the one who made the choice for him and that Miguel decided to live his life, with all of his consequences, is so horrifiying, so earth-shattering, that he has made Miles, a teenager, public threat number one in not just his, but everyones eyes. If miles isn’t a victim like him, he has to be the perpetrator.

——————-

The presented message does not only apply to fiction, but also real-life- you are the only one to make choices -and specifically adjustments- to your own life (and story), because hey, "there is no playbook" at the end of the day. :)

I know I could have touched upon Gwen and other characters but it would have been even longer and its late so

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miles morales #spiderman atsv #atsv #itsv #would still risk it all for miguel tbh #spider punk #analysis

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Blessed

Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Edmund Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton Rated: G - depiction of complicated childbirth Word count: 1.8k Summary: The birth of Benedict Bridgerton.

Violet’s second turn in the birthing room at Aubrey Hall was proving a far sight easier than her first. Finding herself back in the rose-colored room with its heavy drapes and imposing bed reminded her of the pains and anxieties of Anthony’s entrance into the world. But her worries were proving unfounded as her labor progressed quickly. Only two hours since the onset, the child had nearly arrived. Even the summer weather was comparatively cheerful, sunshine streaming through the windows and ready to greet the newest Bridgerton who was clearly eager to see it. Violet almost wanted to thank the child for being such an easy delivery. With a final push she felt the pressure give way and leaned into Edmund who sat at her bedside, smiling as she gasped.

Her husband wrapped his arms around her, kissing her damp forehead. “You’ve done it, dearest. My Violet, how I love you.”

She glowed with pride, losing herself in his tearful eyes, knowing that she wanted to bear every child he wanted to give her. These moments, coupled with the joys of raising children, filled her heart beyond measure. She could have floated there for an eternity were it not for the instinctive concern that drew her attention to the foot of the bed. Something was wrong. Everything was entirely too quiet.

A clutch of nurses had gathered around the surgeon, all of them focused intensely and working in a flurry as the cord was severed and the baby was whisked away to the far end of the room. The only glimpse she had seen was a bundle of purple limbs. She sat upright, senses on high alert as her gauzy relief melted away. 

“Your Lordship,” the surgeon called over his shoulder.

Edmund tensed, his face reverting into the Viscount’s mask of resolve. He kissed Violet’s hand then marched to join the throng around the newborn.

Violet was panic stricken, her mind racing with a thousand terrible questions and even more terrible imagined answers. “Edmund?” she croaked. “What…what is it?”

The surgeon’s arms were moving briskly, nurses were scurrying back and forth to his side but they all stood with their backs to her, blocking her view. Edmund stood with them, eyes locked on the sight before him, hands gripping the table where their child lay.

“It’s a boy, my love.” He called back, but his voice wavered. “One moment.”

Under any other circumstances Violet would have been overcome with happiness that she had borne a second son, another Bridgerton to support his elder brother and perpetuate the family name. But those thoughts were the furthest thing from her mind. All she wanted was to hold him. To know why he had been spirited away from her. If she had been able to stand she would have been on her feet and fighting her way to him. But her body was too exhausted, her delivery not yet complete, and there were nurses doing their best to clean and calm her. She swatted them away.

“Why isn’t he crying? Edmund…” She whimpered, feeling ignored. Helpless. Was she a fool to believe that she could have such an easy birth? That there would be no complications on the journey to grow her family? Was this fate dealing a humbling blow to counteract the bliss that she had experienced thus far as a mother? As she stared at the bent backs of everyone who was watching her son before she had even met him, her despair gave way to anger. Whatever state he was in, he was her own. 

“Let me see my child!” She roared. All heads snapped to look at her. In the tense silence Edmund met her gaze, reading everything she felt. Then he nodded and reached over to the nurses who were swaddling the babe. Turning, he now held the small bundle in his arms and began to walk slowly back to the bed.

Still Violet could not see her son and a wave of dread washed over her. Holding her breath she prayed silently, offering up every plea and vow she could piece together while the fragility of the image robbed her of words. 

She managed to whisper. “Is…is he?”

“He’s alive.” Edmund gave her a reassuring smile. “The cord was around his neck but he is alright now. He is resting.”

Suddenly aware again of how brightly the sunshine filled the room, Violet reached out and Edmund eased the bundle into her waiting arms. Just having the weight of him back against her body caused a flood of relief and her fears continued to ebb as she studied him. A perfect little face, cherubic cheeks, long lashes and a shock of dark hair. He breathed in precious little sighs as his color grew warmer but his eyes remained curiously closed. So unlike his brother’s birth, he had yet to make a single noise.

Edmund returned to his place at Violet’s side, wracked with anxiety but knowing better than to show it. He would never forget the horror of those moments waiting for his child to breathe and decided the recollection was one thing he would not willingly share with his wife. Now even though their son was alive, the surgeon had commented on how unusual it was that he remained still and silent as if sleeping. As he watched Violet cradle the boy, he summoned all of his hope, trying to assure himself that all would be well.

“Oh, my sweet,” Violet cooed, dropping soft kisses on his forehead and tiny nose. “Open your eyes.” She traced a gentle finger over the curve of his plump cheek, stirring him to wakefulness, calling him into the world. Instantly the boy’s brow lifted and his eyes blinked open, impossibly blue and full of light as they gazed at his mother. A smile broke across her face and Edmund exhaled loudly behind her. “There you are!” She rejoiced.

The blue eyes moved to Edmund and were followed by a crooked, gummy smile as the babe squirmed and seemed to delight in his presence.

Violet gasped and reached for her husband’s hand. “Edmund, he has your likeness.” Indeed, the Viscount felt the odd sensation that he was looking at a younger version of himself. He saw something of his eyes and something of his jaw even in a face so round and new. Their shared widows peak was already evident too. Anthony was proving to be a blend of all his and Violet’s most noble features, but this boy was an echo of himself for the next generation. His heart swelled.

As both parents wiped away their happy tears and Violet rocked the child in her arms, they called for their firstborn. He had been kept down the hall with a nursemaid and now came charging into the room.

“Mama!”

Edmund scooped the boy into his arms and climbed onto the bed beside Violet.

“Anthony, this is your new brother.”

The toddler perched in his father’s lap, studying the small bundle scrupulously. The baby’s eyes met his, undaunted as the lopsided grin persisted. 

“He’s small,” Anthony announced.

Violet smiled. “Yes, he is dearest. You were this small when you were born too. He will grow, the same as you.”

“What his name?” That he lifted a brow with an air of genteel curiosity was entirely within character. Even at the tender age of two, Anthony often carried himself as any proper gentleman would, proving adept at learning the various forms of address for members of society. A true viscount in the making.

“Well, we must decide upon that.” Violet looked to Edmund. Anthony had been one among a number of names they considered for their first son. A family name but also the one that proved most appropriate when they first beheld him. For the rest of their children they had only agreed upon a naming scheme rather than names themselves. Alphabetical would be most orderly for a large family.

Edmund put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You know your alphabet, yes?”

The boy nodded proudly, chestnut hair bouncing.

“A is for…?”

“Anthony!” He chirped gleefully.

The Viscount grinned. “Excellent. And what comes after A?”

“B!” He exclaimed, then turned to the newborn with a look of wondrous realization. “Baby…” he whispered, brushing a chubby finger across his brother’s chubby cheek just as his mother had. The younger continued to squirm happily, gazing up at his sibling with a curious little smile on his face, all huge eyes and observation. 

Violet’s heart fluttered at the sight. Her two children together, a sense of connection and love already so evident between them. If she had thought herself fulfilled by raising her first son, she was knocked breathless by the experience now being doubled. What name could she give her second born? One noble and deserving of the respect, but reflective of how precious his life had already proven to be. There were many options but once again, just as it had before, a voice within her quickly whispered the choice. Blessed. He was blessed to have pulled through the complications of his birth; each of them gathered in the bed were blessed to have him join their family; and if the light in his fathomless eyes portended a fraction of what she felt it did, Violet knew that he would be blessed with a beautiful life ahead.

“What about Benedict?”

Anthony looked at her quizzically then surveyed his brother again. At last he gave a large nod, stating affirmatively, “Ben-dic.” A seal of approval.

Edmund chuckled, shifting the boy to face him. “Now Anthony, as a big brother you must look after Benedict. Make sure he is safe, help him to learn, stay by his side. In return he will always be your friend and will help you too. Brothers are very important.” The Viscount had no doubt that his eldest son would prove a steadfast protector and provider for all of his siblings, but he wanted to ensure the boy felt driven to do so out of love as much as duty.

Anthony listened intently, always receptive to his father’s lessons. After being charged with his new responsibility he began to twist his fingers, looking uncertain.

“We share toys?” He asked nervously.

Both parents burst into laughter which did not help to assure their son.

“Yes, you will need to share.” Violet confirmed. This prompted Anthony to clench his jaw and furrow his brow, shooting a dark and envious look at his brother who only moments before had held his favor. Benedict looked directly back at him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he let out a squeaking burble of glee.

All eyes darted to him and Anthony’s jaw fell open in shock. “Mama, he laughed!”

Then they all laughed together, arms around one another, parents showering their sons with kisses and praise. A growing family, one member stronger, blessed with happiness.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #violet bridgerton #violet bridgerton fanfiction #edmund bridgerton #edmund bridgerton fanfiction #violet and edmund #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #bridgerton brothers #family feels

[olivyh]

Have an online class for today… and I was thinking a bit

What is RSA got a student from Earth as well?

Where NRC!Yuu was spending their time fighting against overblots and such, what if RSA!Yuu was also struggling?

Not against overblots persay, but other people! We know from Kalim that assassination attempts are very much a thing, and of course people will always have enemies… and RSA is a more “princely” school.

So RSA!Yuu would spend some of that time learning how to protect their friends, comforting them when the stresses of being a royal get to be too much

As an idea for this:

-Helping TWST!Alice (Allistor?) with his struggles with wandering and daydreaming, the boy stuck in a perpetual loop of wanting more and more adventure, but unable to do so due to his older sister (brother?) forcing him to study (like in the original Alice in Wonderland where Alice’s sister was reading to her/asking her to recite things). It could also follow the path of the newer movies, in which Alice was nearly forced to get engaged and she ran away due to wanting a life of adventure

-Cheka already exists, but I’m thinking if there was a second prince of a lesser kingdom near the Afterglow Savannah where theres a different TWST!Simba. Or like,,, Leona’s cousin?? Another noble?? Anyways… helping TWST!Simba reunite with his mother after his father (the noble) was killed and he blamed himself for it, running off to another kingdom and living with his adoptive fathers (who have no clue that he’s a noble). Helping him return to his kingdom and restore the order after all hell broke loose once they believed their only heir to their throne was dead. (Or, if you may, Yuu becomes Cheka’s babysitter during that arc lmao)

-Teaching Rielle to stand up to his father after he expressed an interest staying on land. Since Rielle is also a prince… I’m thinking there would be a lot of humans who would very easily take advantage of a naive merman living on the land for the first time,,, so helping him become more aware of those around him (i hc that he’s like ariel and is the type to fall in love easily)

-Supporting TWST!Jasmine after he comes back from break looking particularly stressed. Him telling RSA!Yuu that his father was forcing him to choose a suitor despite how desperately he wanted to rule the Scalding Sands by himself. He also had to deal with his fathers vizier who would take every opportunity to talk down on the boy and manipulate his father, helping him prove to his father that he can rule on his own and that he’s smart enough to rule over his people

-Defending Neige after jealous coworkers (coughcoughcoughcough) try to poison him. The paparazzi constantly hunting the boy down, not giving him a single second to breathe and actually be himself. Being constantly aware of the public eye, plus possible poisonings?

-Training with TWST!Hercules, who laments how he inexperienced he is in being a hero, unable to reach his own potential despite how much he may train. Coming back to the dorm with countless injuries, exhausted. Helping him realize that he doesn’t have to be the perfect hero to be worth something

-Helping TWST!Aurora overcome his curse and come to terms with his childhood, reuniting with his parents and having a conversation with his aunts (uncles?) about why they wanted to keep him safe (unless,,, Silver is at least partially based on aurora,,,, hmmm,,,, that could be a plot point for RSA!Yuu to go to NRC)

just my thoughts, feel free to add comments/other thoughts! <3

#twst #twisted wonderlnd #twisted wonderland headcannons #twst rsa #rsa #royal sword academy

[ghostchems]

a perpetual rise - part 1

Papa Emeritus the Third begins to get used to his newfound power. Copia is in mourning. Marion tries to fit in at the Ministry.

notes: sequel to black light guides you. 3.2k words. mdni! 18+! sad copia. sexy terzo. stressed marion. what more could you ask for? ao3 link. also i think my writing has improved a lot since black light so... ya don't have to read that first.

Copia had barely left his quarters in the last month. He would alternate his time between being curled up in his bed, deep under the covers, to reading at his desk. He had a pile of books stacked that he had quickly gone through, warranting another trip to the ministry’s library soon. Ghouls would leave him little treats and snacks outside of his door to ensure that he was eating. 

Copia was in mourning. His brother, the new head of the clergy, had advised everyone to give him the space needed to overcome the loss he suffered. But he hadn’t heard from Terzo himself since that night. The knowing look he had given him before he struck her down for all of the siblings of sin and ghouls to witness.

He felt he had been reduced to Terzo’s errand boy that night. He had no time to think before he was tasked with making sure Papa’s “guest of honor” remained onsite. Copia will admit that perhaps he had used too much force when retrieving her, but in his mind… she deserved it. He may have been taking out his anger on her, but so it goes.

Anger bubbled up in his chest as he placed his head in his hands. Terzo thought that he could just replace Sister Imperator with an outsider. His nails dug into his temples, a broken sob rising from his lips. 

He understood why Terzo had done it, of course. After what she did to him, after what she had done to their brothers. But, Copia knew who Imperator was and he was sure that Terzo had known, too.

“Cazzo.” He grumbled to himself, forcing himself to his feet. He decided that perhaps a trip to the library would help his spirits, hoping to check out more books that he could get lost in. Copia smoothed his hair back as he left his quarters in an attempt to seem somewhat put together. The makeup around his eyes were faded, smudged and cracked, having been on his face for days. He certainly looked worse for wear, earning sympathetic looks in the hallway from the siblings he passed in the hallway.

Copia felt a sense of peace as soon as he entered the library. It had always been his happy place, ever since he was a child. That same security washed over him as he browsed the aisles, unsure of what he was even looking for at this point but waiting for something to speak to him.

That is, until he heard her voice. Copia immediately stiffened, creeping towards the sound. He stopped at the end of the aisle she was in and scowled, hovering until she noticed him.

Marion looked up from the book she had in her hand, tuning Sister Charlotte out who had been gushing over what reading she should take up. A shiver had gone up her spine, having the sudden feeling she was being watched. Her eyes drifted to the end of the aisle, meeting his cold gaze.

“O-oh, hello Papa.” Sister Charlotte squeaked. Marion offered a smile and a small nod towards him. She didn’t know what to say to him at this point, having tried to speak with him on multiple occasions in order to keep things friendly. He was having absolutely none of that which did hurt her feelings quite a bit, but she understood that he was dealing with a painful loss.

Copia said nothing, keeping his gaze on the two of them before continuing on his way. Sister Charlotte visibly shuddered, looking back at Marion.

“You weren’t kidding, he really does not seem to like you.”

**

Marion held her books close to her chest as she walked down the hallway back to her office. She had been settling in nicely to her new role in the clergy, a role that has not yet been officially named, but an important one nonetheless. Terzo had suggested they call her “Mama Emeritus” which was met with a resounding absolutely not from her. She also wasn’t sure if he had been serious in the first place.

She entered her office with a content sigh, resting her books on her desk. Her office was adorned with plants of all kinds and had a bright, sunlit window that overlooked the ministry garden. There were candles lit throughout, a mix of her favorite scents, and a few cozy chairs she could cuddle up.

Marion had never had a space that was so special and so hers. Her apartment had been technically hers but the fact that she didn’t own it had deterred her from truly making it her own. But, Terzo had made it clear to her that this office could be whatever she wanted it to be. 

She settled down in her desk chair, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. She absent-mindedly scrolled through her work so far, resting her chin on her hand as her eyes glazed over the words. Papa had given her an important task as her first job – to document their story. The story of him haunting her dreams, seducing her and them forming the bond that they shared now.

She would probably leave out having to watch a YouTube tutorial to learn how to stitch in order to get Terzo’s head back on. And, despite his protests, the amount of orgasms that were had will not be included. It was fun for her to go back and recount how it all happened and how they found themselves where they are today. Eventually, it will be disseminated throughout the clergy to educate the remaining members.

Clergy members had fled, just as she had attempted, after Papa’s grand gesture of power. It had been bloody, it had been dramatic, and it set the precedent that Terzo was not fucking around anymore, that Hell had changed him into a beast not to be triffled with. It was a stark change from the leadership Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil had implemented.

Marion tinkered around with the document for a few more hours, referring back to her journal entries from that time to jog the memories of the dreams they had shared. It was hard for her to concentrate, her mind shifting back to the sight of Copia and his disgust for her.

After a while, she found herself walking down the halls of the ministry, wandering until she came up on her destination. Marion knocked softly on the door, toying with her fingers as she waited. He opened the door quickly, then slowly started to shut it again until he could see her through the crack.

“What is it?” Copia snapped, narrowing his eyes.

“You left your quarters today.” 

“So?” He was full of attitude, his face twisted in disgust.

She stood there in silence for a moment, her eyes scanning over his face. Ever since she had arrived, his behavior had been nothing short of hurtful to her but still, she tried every so often to speak to him. Copia was important; he was Terzo’s last remaining brother and attempting to forge some kind of relationship with him was constantly at the forefront of her mind.

“I wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing.” Marion’s voice was soft, timid almost, her eyes falling to her feet in front of her. Another long silence stretches between them before she brings her gaze up to meet his cold, dangerous eyes.

“You’re only here so he can breed you, you know.” His lips curled into a sinister smile, opening the door to his room only slightly so he can leer over her. “That is all Papa wants you for. That is your role here.” Copia seemed pleased with himself, practically snickering as he spoke.

Her entire demeanor changed. Her body straightened out, shoulders strong as she looked at him with a blank expression. She had expected this kind of response… but it still hurt, of course. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing the manifestation of it.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Marion pulled her lips into a tight smile. She could see the confusion on his face by her response and got a quick sense of victory over him. “Terzo misses his brother. He will be here for you when you’re ready.” She let that sentence linger in the air for a moment, long enough to see a small flash of emotion across Copia’s face before turning on heel and leaving him alone.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she scurried back to her quarters, closing the door behind her. The second she realized she was alone she let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“Fuck.” Marion sighed as she ran a hand over her face. The stress of her new life could get to her sometimes, specifically when it related to Copia. The siblings of sin and some of the ghouls had begun to warm up to her the more she put herself out there, but even that felt exhausting at times. It was hard for her to accept that there were some that didn’t like her.

That there were some people who thought she was there to please Papa. That she was there to be bred. 

“The fuck does that even mean?” She huffed to herself as she pulled off her sweater and then her pants. The second her bra dropped from her shoulders, her entire body relaxed. Marion gazed upon her reward for the day — her pajamas and the bed. 

She is quickly in both, snuggled under the weight of the blankets as her stress melted away.

**

Marion’s eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the darkness around her. She hadn’t heard him come in but Terzo had his face tucked against her neck, feeling his soft breaths against her skin as he slept. He was lazily grinding against her, his arm draped over her hips. 

She pressed her ass against him further, drawing a low moan from him. His arm slid up her stomach, his hand grabbing at her breast through her shirt with a soft sigh. 

“I missed you today, amore.” He whispered against her neck, planting a few sweet kisses to it. Marion rolled over on her back to look up at him, running her fingers through his messy hair. 

“Long day?”

“Si.” He said with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut at her touch. She brought her fingers down to lightly caress his jaw. Terzo opened his eyes, looking down at her with such affection before leaning in to kiss her. His lips felt soft against hers, his teeth grazing them gently.

Terzo shifted his position, sliding himself on top of her with ease. His hands fell to her hips, teasing with the hem of her shirt. 

“You wear too many clothes to bed, tesoro.” He smirked, grinding his hips against her again.

“I don’t think you wear enough.” Marion stuck her tongue out at him as she slipped her hand down between them, reaching for his already hard cock. He was quick to snatch her by her wrist, pinning it to her side as he clicked his tongue. 

“Marion, let’s not get ahead of ourselves… I owe you some attention, do I not?” Terzo murmured as he pushed her shirt up over her head. He nipped at her jaw, trailing his lips down to her neck to plant open, wet kisses along it. His hands drifted up her sides, reaching her breasts and pinching her nipples. 

She gasped, a low hum rumbling in her throat as her fingers ran through his hair. Terzo moved lower, teeth grazing her collarbone. He brushed his thumbs over both of her nipples, drawing another sharp exhale from Marion.

When he had convinced her to stay, to be with him and to lead beside him, Terzo had promised that she would be worshiped. So far, he had kept his promise to her and then some. He settled his head between her breasts, growling deeply between them.

“So fucking beautiful.” He hissed, glancing up to look at Marion with hungry eyes. “Mine.” She caught a glimpse of it for just a moment — the sharp fangs and the outline horns in the darkness, his true self. The air felt thicker and warmer around them, her skin buzzing underneath his touch. His power was electrifying. 

A moan caught in her throat as he flicked his tongue against her nipple, taking it into his mouth with a growl. His hand moved to her other breast, pinching the nipple as he swirled his tongue around the other. He continued down to her stomach, his teeth gently grazing it before he settled between her legs.

“Oh, Marion.” He teased, flicking his eyes up to hers. “It looks like you’ve been missing me too, eh?” Terzo swept his tongue across her folds, his hands working to drape her legs over his shoulders. She dug her heels into her back as her body trembled, a whimper escaping her lips as he continued to run his tongue along her, dipping it inside of her.

Her hands flung to grab at his hair, pulling him up just a tad to let him know what she wanted. She felt him chuckle against her, obliging as his lips met her throbbing clit, working his tongue against it.  

“F-fuck, Papa.” Marion breathed out, her hips bucking against his face. He growled against her as she shifted her hips higher, using his shoulders to support her. One of his fingers pressed against her cunt, teasing her before sliding it inside. 

Her entire body shook, moaning shamelessly as she pressed even further against him. He slipped another finger in, starting to work them in and out of her as they curl up against that spot.

“So good for your Papa.” His voice was velvety smooth as dark eyes met hers. His lips find her clit again, sucking on it in time with the thrusting of his fingers. One of Marion’s hands falls to his shoulder, digging her nails into it as a string of moans flooded from her lips. Her muscles were spasming uncontrollably, her back arched as she squeezed her eyes shut. She reached her peak, a loud cry rumbling up from her chest as her mouth fell open.

Marion was still shaking as he sat up on his knees, hands on his hips and a smug expression on his face. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, leaning herself up by her elbows as her gaze fell to his briefs. Her eyes flickered back up to his with a smirk as she reached her fingers to tug at the waistband. 

The smug look was wiped off his face as he allowed her to pull him closer, replaced with a look of pure lust and neediness. He gasped sharply as her lips pressed against his cock through his briefs, immediately moving his hand to grip her hair.

“C-cazzo.” Terzo hissed, his hips already jerking against her mouth. “T-that mouth of yours –” Marion cut him off by pulling his briefs down enough for him to spring out of, her mouth closing around his swollen tip.

She took him in slowly, looking up at him with wide eyes to take in how much he wanted her in that moment. Marion hummed against his cock, letting it slide in to hit the back of her throat, gagging around it. He can hardly take it anymore, his fist tightening its grip in her hair as he started to thrust, taking control back.

Terzo tugged at her hair, pulling her head up to shove his cock even deeper into her throat. His growls and moans filled up the room as his eyes stayed locked on her. Her hands moved to grab onto his thighs, holding them for support as he fucked her face, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.

“A-all for me. All for your P-papa.” He hissed, his hips jerking erratically as he panted. Terzo grabbed her by the head, shoving her all the way down to the hilt as he came inside her mouth. They were both left gasping for air as he slid out of her mouth, a hand moving to carefully brush the tears off of Marion’s cheeks.

“You are so good to me, amore.” He smiled as he leaned in to kiss her tenderly. She hummed softly against him, pulling him down into the bed. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them were fast asleep.

**

Marion’s eyes slowly opened as a ray of light hit her face, giving a soft groan. Her legs stretched across the bed to see if Terzo had gotten up yet – he had, the bed being empty so she spread out even more with a groan, burying her face further into the pillows. She started to gently drift off back to sleep until she felt the familiar nails brush down her back.

“You are going back to sleep without saying goodbye to me, amore?” Terzo whined as he grabbed on to her hips, pulling out from underneath the pillows.

“I didn’t know you were still here.” Marion huffed, rolling over onto her back. He was already dressed for the day in his black suit and fresh paint. “Sometimes you sneak out in the morning.” 

“Excuses.” Terzo smirked before leaning over her and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Today is a lighter day for me, tesoro. I was thinking maybe we could have lunch in the garden? If you are free, of course.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I think I can make some time for my Papa.” She whispered as she pulled him down into the bed, her arms falling around his shoulders. They laid there in silence for a while, enjoying the calm morning. “Maybe… maybe you should invite Copia to our lunch.” Marion felt him tense up in her arms then slowly rising to look at her.

“Why do you say this? Have you spoken to him recently?” Terzo sat back on his legs, a pained expression on his face.

“He still seems a bit… cold.” She chose her words carefully as the breeding comment came to mind. “But, he left his quarters yesterday. I saw him in the library.” 

“I… I don’t know, Marion.” His voice was quiet with a small tinge of sadness. “Is this something that you really want? For him to be there?” 

She leaned forward to cup his cheek and he immediately softened his expression, giving a low exhale. He placed his hand over hers and pressed it further into his cheek. It was an upsetting situation all around and even though Terzo wouldn’t admit it, she knew it was difficult for him to face what he had done, what he had taken from Copia.

“It’s been a month. I think you both need each other right now.” There was another brief silence before he squeezed her hand, nodding.

“Then I will invite him for lunch.” Terzo pressed a kiss to her hand and pushed himself up from the bed, smoothing out his outfit. “I will see you then, amore.” In a flash, he was back to his old, confident self, a charming smile flashing across his face before leaving their quarters.

Marion sighed softly, returning to her fortress of pillows as she relaxed into the bed. 

#terzo #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #terzo x female oc #papa emeritus iii x female oc #my writing #i missed them guys

[bookguide]

Beach Read

Author: Emily Henry

Book: 1/1

Genre: romance, fiction

Summary: Authors Augustus Everett and January Andrews are complete opposites. When January writes a best-selling romance, she ends it with a Happily Ever After. When Augustus writes literary fiction, he kills off his entire cast. Stuck together over the summer, the two authors make a deal to combat their writer’s block: Augustus will write something happy, and January will explore the gloom of literary fiction. As part of the deal, January will take him on trips worthy of a rom-com montage, and Augustus will take her to interview surviving members of a death cult. Both will finish a book by the end of the summer, and no one will fall in love. Obviously.

Review: I adored this book. As I have been stuck in a loop of fantasy and science fiction books, it was refreshing to switch genres! The motifs in this book include love, grief, growth, healing, and friendship. Henry’s characters and plot points are entirely relatable and applicable to real life. I loved going through the main characters’ journeys of healing and growth as they overcome their struggles through loss and grief, and rediscover the meaning of love. This book was beautiful and heartfelt, and made me feel all the emotions these characters felt. Henry’s writing made everything feel so real and even made me evaluate my own experiences with loss and healing, and recognizing that true happiness is found in what we have now, rather than perpetually grasping for something bigger and out of reach. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in romance, books with funny banter, and a story that will melt your heart.

Rating: 5/5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Keep reading🌞

#beach read #emily henry #romance novels #romance #keep reading #bookguide #currently reading #new books #aesthetic #quotes #bibliophile #book blog #book summary #book review #summer reading #summer #beach read review

[itsclydebitches]

Am I the only RWBY hater legitimately happy they're addressing Ruby's trauma and her constant shoving it under the 'i'm a happy dappy shounen protag! you can lean on me!' rug. If it fucks it up I don't think I'll even be too mad - The Owl House fucked theirs up and that's one of the best new shows out. The fact they actually had Ruby faint as her literally shutting down to the new information was neat to me. So tbh despite the rest of the episode being, lmao, bad, I kind of want to be happy and expectant based off that alone. If the focus of the volume really is zeroing in on Ruby's mental health (which it definitely is squaring up to be) I'm kind of interested what they'll do.

You're far from the only one, anon! I'm cautiously hopeful, based primarily on that opening. The fact that we've got Ruby lagging behind the group alongside, our trailer with her past doppelganger seemingly judging her, tells me that yeah, we are squaring up to tackle this. Which is great!

It's also, honestly, kinda frustrating. I was saying years ago that if RWBY finally gets its act together it'll be too little too late in many respects and now we're bumping up against that very problem. I have trouble taking Ruby's trauma seriously when it was nearly nonexistent post-Penny's first death and actually nonexistent after her resurrection. I especially have a hard time taking it seriously when it's book-ended by cutsey mice and vine gags. I'd argue that on one level RWBY already has fucked up Ruby's mental health arc, simply by letting it languish for eight years and introducing the core of it in that mess of a premiere... but that's not to say that there won't still be worthwhile aspects this season, even if the arc isn't all that it could have been.

I'm also just so, so wary after Volume 8. Because Volume 7 had so much going for it. We had the same basic setup of, "This is nowhere near perfect because we had too many problems going into the season, but damn if what they're doing with Ironwood and the team isn't interesting!" And then that crashed and burned so very hard. Obviously that's not to say RWBY will fail again to follow up on what they've introduced, but history hasn't made me particularly optimistic.

Tomorrow is going to be pretty crucial imo. Because Ruby's faint - while yes, emphasizing her shock and tendency to, in this case, literally shut down - is also an easy way to dodge her having a more complex, nuanced reaction. The premiere dodged that further by going, "Ruby says she's fine and conveniently the girls aren't gonna push her about that. Oh look! The episode needs to end now." So tomorrow's 15-20 minute chunk is when the story has to start actually doing something with this revelation - whatever that looks like. If Ruby begins to deal with his somehow (because remember, we only have 9 episodes left), fantastic, we're on our way through a potentially satisfying arc. But if we continue to waste time on silly jokes while Ruby just remains perpetually in this state of, "I'm fine, no need to grapple with what I'm dealing with" - which, notably, has basically been her default state since Volume 3 - then I'm worried we'll get another one-episode "fix it" towards the end of the season, rather than an emotionally fulfilling arc. There's a big difference between actually taking Ruby through this journey of coming to terms with her grief and (fingers crossed) her mistakes vs. introducing us to the fact that She Is Sad and then giving us a scene later in the Volume when she inexplicably, completely Overcomes It. Think Oscar accepting his role as Ozpin's host off screen. Qrow suddenly deciding he's done with drink and look, there are no problems with quitting. Or Ruby's lie never amounting to anything, Ren deciding he's just a bad teammate somewhere out in the snow, even leaving half our characters for a Volume with a potential time-skip on the horizon.

RWBY is very good at saying, "Here's a big problem" and also "It's fixed now," but it's grown terrible at providing the in between; how we got from the staggeringly difficult problem to its resolution. I'm really hoping Ruby's arc doesn't go the same route.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[gamesception]

Let’s read utena chapter 7

Tumblr’s new post editor just ate this entire reaction post I’m so mad it’s all gone.  I’ve turned back on ‘legacy editor’, but honestly every single pop-up overlay editor has been a nightmare and I wish they would go back to having a separate page for post creation, it’s the only way this site has ever been stable.

I’m soooo maddddd

anyway, last time we left off in the middle of the first Sionji duel.  I said something here, but it’s gone now so whatever, not much change from the anime so far anyway.

Except Touga’s physically here for some reason, and looks surprised, like he doesn’t know what’s going on, instead of watching smugly from afar larping like he’s in any amount of control here.

So anyway, the duel ends more or less like in the anime, only instead of the magic sword disappearing there’s this ridiculous sequence where it’s knocked flies out of Sionji’s hand and...

And into utena’s hand and visibly fills her with the power of Dios and everybody including Anthy is completely shocked so this is not normally what happens when a challenger wins a duel so... ok?

It’s still happening.  Like, I’m sorry to just be reposting full pages with minimal commentary, but what even?

Like, why even bother with the rest of the duels?  I get that Utena needs to build a relationship with Anthy and overcome challenges to that relationship in order for her to break the whole dueling ritual and save Anthy at the end, but like, from Akio’s perspective he’s just trying to find a duelist who can channel Dios’s power, and, uh, feels kind of like job done on this one, like he could skip to the end at this point without bothering with the rest of this year’s duelist crop?

It’s still happening, by the way.  Highlander victories were more subdued than this.

I’m with Sionji here.  What was that?

Since the sword doesn’t just disappear, we do get this cute moment of Utena sheepishly giving it back to Anthy, so that’s nice.

We also get this introduction between Utena and Touga where he comes off as... maybe not sincere exactly, but more playful & charming and less condescending & manipulative than in the show.

In the anime, we don’t see Utena leave the arena, but the episode closes on Anthy meeting up with Utena that same night.

In the manga, though, Utena, confused, embarrassed, or maybe just weirded out, kind of rushes out of the arena without anthy, conveyed by a neat handful of panels of the path to the arena in reverse:

One past the gate, Utena does pause just a moment to think about Anthy -

But unlike in the anime, Anthy doesn’t catch up to her that night.

So I guess we’re proceeding into episode 2, but where anime Utena was back to her normal unflappable self by the next day, manga Utena is still visibly shaken up.

As in episode 2, Anthy shows up in class like nothing happened, but we don’t get the cute scene of Utena going out of her way to show concern for Wakaba & trying to cheer her up, or of Wakaba and her book.  The Revolutionary Girl Utena anime already needed just way more Wakaba, if the manga keeps cutting her moments I’ll be sad about it.

Manga Wakaba does show up.  She’s somehow heard about Utena’s dorm change before Utena has, and is much more broken up about it in the manga than in the anime.  Honestly, I liked their conversation in the anime while walking over to the new dorm way better.  Wakaba was sad Utena was moving, but not wailing over it like this since it’s really not that big a deal, Wakaba hangs on her arm, they hold hands and swing their arms, Wakaba talks about how it’s supposedly been closed for ten years and teases Utena about having to clean up a derilict building, Utena gives her a piggy back ride, all in all it’s a very cute scene that also gets the necessary exposition in, and the whole time Wakaba comes across as a fun and funny, perpetually cheerful friend, before leaving Utena on the way because, well, she does live in a different dorm, and needs to get back to her own room.

Where as manga Wakaba...

Does not come off as well at all.  Chijo Saito is really dropping the ball here.

But again, I have to remind myself, she didn’t have the full anime to adapt, it’s not her fault.

As in the anime, Utena worries about the room being a mess, only to find it spotless thanks to Anthy’s cleaning, though...

That cleaning is a bit more strenuous in the manga.

And the chapter closes on Anthy introducing herself as the Rose Bride.

We’re still more or less on track with the anime plot, apart from some weird digressions at the end of the first duel.  I expect the manga to jump the rails sooner rather than later, but I’m not sure when or how.

#utena #revolutionary girl utena #rgu #sception reads rgu

[pagesofkenna]

I listened to the TS;DW Babadook episode on the drive home yesterday and I wanted to cry at the ending it was so good, but also the more I think about it the more conflicted I feel about this movie because it seems like a horror story that is condoning pain just as much as it is condoning healing

like. what was the point of making the boy autistic? especially since it's apparently never said that he's autistic, just heavily implied, very obvious to anyone who knows anything about how autism works. if the movie was about his autism, it would have said that at some point

I did a search for 'Babadook autism' and found a bunch of actuallyautistic blogs talking about this being a movie about ableism (as if the ableism is what the monster represents), and I think that's an incredibly generous reading, and undeserved. I think it's a movie about trauma and grief, and a minor factor is the main character's ableism. I think it's a movie about a mother with an autistic kid who hates him in the way parents with autistic kids sometimes do, and that's not something she has to overcome, it's just a fact about her that I think the audience is intended to sympathize with

i've seen so many comments from fans of this movie about how ''weird'' ''creepy'' ''annoying'' the autistic boy is and it's so disgusting, and disheartening. this is supposed to be a movie about healing and dealing with [insert negative emotion here], and for the mistreatment of an autistic character to just be... casually inserted?

it feels intentional, because it's definitely harder for an allistic writer to include an autistic character than another allistic one. if the boy had been neurotypical the message wouldn't have changed. it would have been about a woman who had this son during this tragedy. making him neurodivergent is an intentional 'pile on' to her tragedy. her son being autistic is an intentional part of the 'tragedy'

it's just... it's gross. and for a movie with such an amazing central intention, to have this horrifying detail perpetuated, makes me feel conflicted, because I want it to be a really good movie but I actually can't ignore how much the movie accuses literally me and the people I love of being the problem.

#the obvious followup should be a pro-autism horror movie made about a kid with autism and their parents trying to murder them #throw in something about a monster or a demon possessing the parents #except in true autism speaks fashion they're trying to spin it around and get people to think it's the kid who's possessed #honestly i feel like there WAS a movie kinda like this I saw and I'm struggling to figure out what I'm remembering....

[stinkrascal]

! Read your tags and Vlad/Breanna’s relationship is very interesting to me. I hope I can say this without it brining offense, but considering Breanna was a young human when they met and Vlad is an ancient (I assume hundred-something year old?) vampire... Is there going to be scenes of how that could create conflict? I’m hinting at maturity levels here. Physically they are the same, stuck in Y/A bodies, mentally and emotionally there is a HUGE gap. I’d be really into seeing how that can be an issue at times. Especially considering how older men can often use the power imbalance there (sometimes unknowingly but let’s be real it’s usually purposely lols) against women. Not saying Vlad would ever purposely hurt Breanna, I simply think it’s important to bring up and address in this obvious situation.

no offense at all! i'll put this under a cut bc it's pretty long lol.

there's a discrepancy in their emotional maturity, but i wouldn't say it's a huge discrepancy. rather, they are both emotionally immature and childish people, they simply express those flaws in very different ways. where breanna weaponizes her incompetence and pushes blame on others, vlad is overbearing and accept all responsibility no matter the circumstance. vlad appears mature to breanna, because she does not have a better frame of reference, but the truth is, he's just as immature as she is. he's mocked by other supernaturals, because they see through his "in control" charade, how it's nothing more but a desperate plea to feel any semblance of control over his life, but to breanna, he really seems like he has everything together, and she utilizes that to her advantage. the other supernaturals see through breanna's charade too, they realize that she could do more for herself if she only applied herself, and she's not nearly as helpless as she likes to make herself seem, but to vlad, it feels as though she really needs his help, which he utilizes to his advantage. if something feels too difficult for breanna to deal with, she'll simply push it onto vlad, and vlad graciously accepts whatever burdens she shares, because he wants nothing more than to feel useful. what i'm trying to say is there definitely is a gap, but it isn't as huge as you think, because the truth is they're BOTH very immature, and they use each other's immaturity to their advantage.

also, let me just clarify that their relationship isn't abusive!! they don't actively try to hurt each other, and vlad is actually very conscious and insecure about their age gap. it's one of the reasons he doesn't pursue her until the very end, after breanna admits her feelings first. i would say their relationship is very unhealthy, as they encourage codependence in the other while stagnating their emotional growth, but it isn't abusive by any means. i do genuinely believe they have love and respect for one another, and they see each other as equals. they're just deeply flawed people who feel they cannot overcome their lifetimes of abuse and mental illness. so, instead of dealing with their own individual traumas, they use the other person to keep their traumas at bay, which keeps them in this perpetual cycle of emotional stasis, where they never have to mature. that's essentially the entire point of the story, using codependence to avoid the need to grow from one's trauma.

so yeah, the idea is definitely there, but as i said, the story is more about their shared immaturity and their codependency than anything else!!

#jade answers #anonymous #straud asks #if i need to tag this lmk!! #i love how i looked at vladislaus straud of all the townies and said actually you have lifelong trauma and attachment issues #vlad and bries relationship is really just what happens when youre both scorpio moons with the fearful-avoidant attachment style #shoutout to my fellow fearful-avoidants <3

[francesbeau]

The Vital Illusion & Seduction - Jean Baudrillard

(1) The Vital Illusion. 

- ‘ We all want immortality. It is our ultimate fantasy, a fantasy that is also at work in all of our modern sciences and technologies.’ (pp1) 

-  ‘Blindly we dream of overcoming death through immortality, when all the time immortality is the most horrific of possible fates. Encoded in the earliest life of our cells, this fate is now reappearing on our horizons, so to speak, with the advent of cloning’ (pp6)

- ‘The death drive, according to Freud, is precisely this nostalgia for a state before the appearance of individuality and sexual differentiation, a state in which we lived before we became mortal and distinct from one another. Absolute death is not the end of the individual human being; rather, it is a regression toward a state of minimal differentiation among living beings, of a pure repetition of identical beings.’ (pp6) so my understanding of this death instinct is the desire to erode self back into original state of being. initial state? striving to return through path of development? sexual instinct (eros) is kind of opposite, goal is pleasure whereas this goal is annihilation. 

-  ‘ The sexual revolution—the real one, the only one—is the advent of sexuality in the evolution of living things, of a duality that puts an end to perpetual indivision and successive iterations of the same. In this, the sexual revolution is also the revolution of death. It is the revolution of death, as opposed to the infinite survival of the same.’ (pp9)

- ‘Humankind does not discriminate; it willingly becomes its own guinea pig under the same terms as the rest of the world, animate and inanimate. Humankind blithely plays with its own future as a species in the same way that it the final solution 16 plays with the future of all other creatures. In its blind quest to possess greater knowledge, humankind programs its own destruction with the same casual ferocity that it applies to the destruction of everything else.’ (pp16)

-  The limits of the human and the inhuman are in the the final solution 20 process of being worn away—but the human does not give way to the superhuman, as Nietzsche had dreamed, with his transvaluation of values. Rather, it gives way to the subhuman, to something not beyond but underneath human.’ (pp20)

- ‘...A fascination with commemorations, rehabilitations, cultural museification, the listing of sites of memory, the extolling of heritage. Infact this obsession with reliving and reviving everything, this obsessional neurosis, this forcing of memory is equivalent to a vanishing of memory—a vanishing of actual history, a vanishing of the event in the information space.’ (pp40)

- ‘Let us be clear about this: if the Real is disappearing, it is not because of a lack of it—on the contrary, there is too much of the murder of the real. It is the excess of reality that puts an end to reality, just as the excess of information puts an end to information, or the excess of communication puts an end to communication. We are no longer dealing with a problematic of lack and alienation, where the referent of the self and the dialectic between subject and object were always to be found.’ (pp66)

-  Harvard Reference: Baudrillard. J (2000) ‘The Vital Illusion.’ Colombia University Press, New York.

(2) Seduction

-  When desire is entirely on the side of demand, when it is operationalized without restrictions, it loses its imaginary and, therefore, its reality; it appears everywhere, but in generalized simulation. It is the ghost of desire that haunts the defunct reality of sex. Sex is everywhere, except in sexuality.’ (pp6)

- ‘Freud was right: there is but one sexuality, one libido - and it is masculine. Sexuality has a strong, discriminative structure centered on the phallus, castration, the Name-of-the Father, and repression.’ ‘The danger of the sexual revolution for the female is that she will be enclosed within a structure that condemns her to either discrimination when the structure is strong, or a derisory triumph within a weakened structure. The feminine, however, is, and has always been, somewhere else .That is the secret of its strength.’ (pp7)

- So sexuality is inherently masculine and therefore ‘the strength of the feminine is that of seduction.’ 

- ‘All masculine power is a power to produce. All that is produced, be it the production of woman as female, falls within the register of masculine power. The only, and irresistible, power of femininity is the inverse power of seduction. In itself it is nul, seduction has no power of its own, only that of annuling the power of production.’ (pp17)

- ‘ The frenzy of unlimited sex, an exacerbated ventilation of desire onto demand and gratification.’ / ‘Revolution of desire,’ 

- ‘ To produce is to materialize by force what belongs to another order, that of the secret and of seduction. Seduction is, at all times and in all places, opposed to production. Seduction removes something from the order of the visible, while production constructs everything in full view, be it an object, a number or concept.’ (pp34)

- ‘ Pornography is usually faulted for two reasons - for manipulating sex in order to defuse the class struggle (always the old "mystified consciousness") and for corrupting sex (the good, true sex, the sex to be liberated, the sex to be considered amongst our natural rights) by its commodification. Pornography, then, is said to mask either the truth of capital and the infrastructure, or that of sex or desire.’ (pp35)

- ‘ Power seduces. But not in the vulgar sense of the masses' desire for complicity.’ - ‘ . No, power seduces by virtue of the reversibility that haunts it. No more dominant and dominated, no more. victims and executioners (but "exploiters" and "exploited," they certainly exist, r there is no reversibility in production - but then nothing essential happens at this level) . power is realized according to a duel relation, whereby it throws a challenge to society, and its existence is challenged in return . If power cannot be "exchanged" in accord with this minor cycle of seduction, challenge and ruse, then it quite simply disappears.’ 

- ‘ "I'll be your mirror" does not signify "' I'll be your reflection" but "I'll be your deception." (pp74)

- ‘To seduce is to die as reality and reconstitute oneself as illusion . It is to be taken in by one's own illusion and move in an enchanted world. It is the power of the seductive woman who takes herself for her own desire, and delights in the self deception in which others, in their turn, will be caught . Narcissus too loses himself in his own illusory image ; that is why he turns from his truth, and by his example turns others from their truth - and so becomes a model of love. The strategy of seduction is one of deception. It lies in wait  for all that tends to confuse itself with its reality. And it is potentially a source of fabulous strength.’ (pp70)

- ‘It even lies in wait for the unconscious and desire, by turning them into a mirror of the unconscious and desire. For the latter concerns only drives and their gratification; while the enchantment begins only after one has been taken in by one's desire. It is the illusion that, happily, saves us from "psychic reality." And it is the illusion of psychoanalysis, which confuses itself with its own desire for psychoanalysis and thereby enters into seduction.’ (pp75)

- Harvard Reference: Baudrillard. J (1991) ‘Seduction.’ MacMillan Publishers

#jean baudrillard #philosophy #political theory

[elizabethmorozpoet]

Quandries of Perpetual Discord (Poem)

Permanent irreversible Attatchment disorder

A lemonade stand at the Mexican Border

A traumatised disorganised old lady hoarder

The incriminating evidence on an old tape recorder 

Elements of discontent shivering through a crowd 

Firmaments of promises sent confirming love out loud

Innocents in recompense versus the indiscriminately Proud 

Hallowed ground to walk a solemn pilgrimage 

Mellowed kids found in a drugged up old orphanage 

Shallow things in the ground as we discover archaeological heritage 

Waiting for you to come around after the last disagreeable haemorrhage 

Don’t perpetuate the notions of those who deal in mis-truths

Allow the forward motion of the next generation of youths 

Avoid the multi-syllabic commotions of the sub-cutaneous systematic  word-sleuths

Explore the promotion of legislative proof 

Pay no heed to aristocracy lest you kneel before the crown 

Histories of greed and animosity as First Nation people frown 

Enhance the seed of meritocracy and do not let democracy down 

Per chance the need of mediocrity is allowing dreams of progression to literally drown

Distortions of perspective allowed too much time in publication 

Abortions and incentives disavowed by politically un -objective legislation 

Contortions of mis-directives allowed the resulting violent instigations 

Act with caution around detectives when they amount their investigations 

A conversation meant for only honest ears

An invitation sent to one who has accumulated the years of 

Inclination that went to a pub to drink more beers 

As the intimation to invent inclines financial systems into arrears 

Sunlit afternoons upon a golden prairie 

Unfit old cartoons before it all became too contrary 

The stark hit of high noon when viewing something extraordinary

The slow wit of a tycoon holding onto his self proclamations of “Legendary”

A compromise of ethics for the sake of business running 

An enterprise of genetics in the wake of scientific funding 

A stealth disguise of frenetics formed by a hedonistic cunning

The wealth suprised by the systemics involved in the economic collapses that are coming 

The concentric inheritly biased comparisons that we make 

The eccentric numerical silence of a mathematicians answer to a Fake

The barbaric energetic violence of those who are only willing to take 

Marie Antoinette on the day she proclaimed “Let them eat cake!”

A latent virus that is mutating just under the skin 

A patient silence that is waiting for the other team to win 

Egypt turned to the God Osiris as Cleopatra started to grin 

A thief conspires to other liars as Frank Sinatra sips on gin 

Confusion as the narrative gets told by a country pop star 

Intrusion as the explanative gets old when self grandiosity is taken too far 

Infusion as the comparative grows cold from irrelevant celebrity notions that stick like tar 

Inclusion as the imperative shows the hereditary emotions that break down like an old car

Respect for those that made it through hard work, strain and tears 

Inject the woes then tame it before you’re overcome by your fears 

Correct those that know then proclaim it as you want the people to truly hear

Inspect the toes of those who name it before they own up to their natural years 

Amalgamate the mass derision by theoretical inclusion 

Promulgate the crass decisions through hypothetical intrusions

Don’t perpetuate the wounds from the incisions from hypocritical delusions 

Try to ameliorate the sounds of the derision by acting in unconventional global unison

The End 

Copywrite Elizabeth Moroz 2023

I hope you enjoyed my original contemporary poem. Thankyou for taking the time to read it. Elizabeth

#contemporary poetry #relevant #human rights #elizabeth moroz poet

[janice1303]

Gender roles and societal expectations

Rochelle Lobo

MC216055

We witness gender stereotyping every day, but how many of us truly notice? How much of it is so ingrained into our culture and psyche that we are simply blind to it?

They are forms of unconscious bias which allows us to make sense of the world around us by categorizing everything we see from gender to sexuality to race.

 In today’s generation there’s a lot more acceptance and support in breaking stereotypes and norms that revolve around the topic or gender roles.

But dating back to a few decades or even a few years it wasn’t easy for people to express their selves and fit in society due to the unrealistic expectations or ancestors left for us.

Gender stereotyping is an overgeneralization of the differences between certain groups based on their characteristics or attributes and they serve to reinforce the idea that each gender and the behaviors associated with it are binary.

Gender roles are stereotypes regarding attitudes, attributes and actions imposed on men and women based on gender. These kinds of preconceptions are usually harmful to society yet, understanding what they are and their history is crucial to overcoming them.

It perpetuates inequality and greatly affects minorities that may not be in the position to reject these stereotypes.

Gender stereotyping is harmful when it limits women’s or men’s capacity to develop their personal abilities, pursue their professional careers and make choices about their lives and life plans. It is wrongful when it results in a violation of human rights and fundamental freedoms.

Stereotypes create a disconnect in the minds of those observing the behavior of a particular individual when, in an attempt to ascertain their gender, they perceive the behavior as not in line with what they expect. This can lead to discrimination and unfair treatment across various aspects of an individual’s life. It can also influence a young person’s experience and subject of choice.

An example for this is the failure to criminalize marital rape based on the stereotype of women as a sexual property of men. Another is the failure of the justice system to hold perpetrator of sexual violence accountable based on stereotypical views about women’s appropriate sexual behavior.

A common stereotype is that women should be nurturing mothers and caregivers while men should be strong and the provide for their families. While this may not sound too bad, it can lead to bring excessive burden with social responsibilities.

Unrealistic gender standards have set a toxic example to generations leading them to think its normal to experience certain traits.

Gender norms affect women in various detrimental ways. The ‘purity culture’ is just one example. This occurs when a woman is taught that her value lies solely in her sexual purity and virginity. Our society perpetuates many double standards where men get a free pass for their sexual behavior, while women are judged and earn a negative reputation.

The strict grooming and rules combine to reinforce the patriarchal control over a woman’s body. They have been led to believe that certain jobs were not meant for them and are therefore restricted to be associated with anything related to it. They are expected to be soft in nature, respectable in society and experts in ‘household’ chores. Being ‘perfect’ and ‘presentable’ starts at a very early age where girls are confined to a certain ideology to retain femininity so that she grows up to fit into the unrealistic expectation of a woman that the patriarchy has set.

 Abuse both verbal and physical, women especially in some Indian households are said to bare all the toxicity of dealing with certain abuse because of what other people will think.

Men or boys openly expressing emotion is often viewed as a weakness or something inherently ‘feminine’. These beliefs have been linked to significant negative outcomes for males such as aggression and violence. Although power, privilege and sexism often confer certain benefits to men, it can also force them into a narrow set of roles.

[kalinann]

forgot how stupidly cute lady looked while undercover as a blackjack dealer

#✩ ❛ ∘ 𝑜𝑜𝑐 « the poster's crusade . › #iconing the anime is a fun exercise as you're left with about 3 usable frames per episode because the quality fluctuates consistently #( i assume they were on a tight budget ) #do love that dante & lady's plan to deal with the gambling demon is have dante be possessed & trust lady to shoot him but miss the heart #& she still grazes it just a bit #real friendship is when you fully believe in someone enough to allow them to shoot you non-fatally #dante's half-demon he would've lived either way #what i'm taking from this episode as well as lady's general knack through the anime at pool & cards & the like is that she might #& i mean might #have a complicated relationship with gambling #given her proclivity for thrill-seeking and risk taking behaviour gambling provides the right edge without the brush with mortality #which is a constant of devil hunting #a lesser personal demon of many #something she deals with & overcomes in perpetuity

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

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#ezra #ezra prospect #Prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra's journal #prospect fanfiction #ezra fanfic #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

[thesagedahlia]

♀️Sagittarius: Polarity Reading♂️

♀️: she may be working on feelings/insecurities around self worth, where she will need to take more care of herself & she is discovering the particulars of this. she may realize the unhealthy situations/patterns that are keeping her from establishing growth with self which allows the total essence of her energy to feel tampered with. she has been contemplating how she has delayed the need to tend to her connection to herself & what she has been trying to overcome through what she considers limitations for her. she is perpetuating a pessimism that has unknowingly created a lacking sense of hope, & this energy has been heavy on her for sometime now. she is working to be patient with the process, because she has seen what it looked like when trying to resist it. she would rather work with the changes, though this will call for her to initiate some of them. some will be hard for her, so she is needing to trust what she is already aware/sure of. she is becoming more in tune with what she knows internally & is stepping into bravery when it comes to healing thins she doesn't want to look at. it may be hard for her to be still in the moment & allow things to unfold when she believes there could be something that she could be doing, but spirit is voting against this. the opportunity to act & push things forward will be hard to miss, so until then all she can do is prepare for it. she is frustrated about waiting & is needing to work through this as well; things may not be resolved overnight & may need to be built upon steadily.

♂️: he has a lot of hard situations that he is needing to face at this time, but it will take a lot of vulnerability on his part, this could be a hard conversation with someone who was hurt/has hurt him in the past. initial fears around toxic cycles could be coming up for him, as well as fears around his own/other people's emotions. he may also coming to realize how these insecurities have held him back & this has become the focus in keeping a balance between his head & heart. he may have been to serious/stoic for a time after dealing with triggering situations, but it is the power in these triggers that he may not be completely ready to explore. it may be hard for him to really trust his intuition fully at this time. his limitations/lessons are coming up to bring tense energy to him in needing to enact a change; an end to a tough cycle that he may have been avoiding up until now. he knows the extent of pressure he is feeling at this time & it is motivating him to push through regardless, coming from more of a place of patience & persistence. he has been doing a lot of hard work that has been allowing him to face himself in certain scenarios, but he is now understanding every choice he makes moving forward will be of great importance for him. he can't benefit much from working against what is intuitively calling at him. there is a need to be completely honest with himself about how he moves forward, as there now needs to be a conscious effort to work through the uncomfortable situations that may be coming up for him.

*this reading is intended for Sagittarius placements (big 6 especially venus&mars) & is intended to entertainment purposes only, this is NOT a gender specific reading, we all huave & harbor masculine & feminine energy; pronouns being used to refer to energy, take what resonates, leave the rest*

#tarot community #witchblr #tarot #tarot readings #ask sage #astrology #sagittarius venus #sagittarius sun #sagittarius moon #sagittarius #sagittarius rising #sagittarius mars #sagittarius feminine #sagittarius masculine #feminine energy #masculine energy